


Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair

by tigriswolf



Series: comment_fic drabbles [210]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental Child Acquisition, Bucky Barnes being competent is both attractive and terrifying, Bucky Barnes is so tragic, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Families of Choice, Gen, Healing, Homelessness, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Outside pov is my favorite, POV Outsider, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Walkabout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2018-02-14 08:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 24,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigriswolf/pseuds/tigriswolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man who was once a weapon (and is trying to become a man again) finds a child wheezing one night.  It awakens something inside him. </p><p>[or, the ex-Winter Soldier imprints on a child and lets her become his conscience]</p><p>[mostly fluff]</p><p>[mostly]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: Bucky and Steve aren’t mine. Yasmin is. Title from Langston Hughes. Some of the quotes are from either of the Cap movies; some I made up because they seemed like things Bucky might say.  
> Warnings: implied bad things happening to a child in the past; everything the presence of the Winter Soldier implies; talk of violence/death/roaring rampage of revenge  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 3570  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: _The soldier who-was-once-Bucky-Barnes is struggling to cope with fractured commands and no mission. He knows he wants to be good again but his moral compass is a little bit broken. He needs guidance._
> 
> _Enter a six-year-old asthmatic Captain America fan with an uncanny resemblance to Steve when he was that age, who suddenly finds him(her?)self in command of an ex-soviet assassin._
> 
> _Optional Bonus Points:_  
>  _+10 The kid's name is some variant of Steve. Stephen, Steven, Stevie, Stephanie,Stephie. (Or alternatively Hogarth Hughes)_  
>  +100 The "missions" Bucky is sent of are include helping little old ladies cross the road, helping cats out of trees, and tying up little kids' shoelaces.  
> +1000 What's left of SHIELD catches on but are happy enough to leave things as they are. Unconventional therapy or not.  
> +10,000 The first meeting with the kid has him dressed up as Captain America fighting off bullies with a bin lid.
> 
> _Everything else is up to you. I just Iron Giant like feels and the amusement of a six-year-old being in charge of one of the world's most deadly assassins._

He finds her wheezing in the corner and knows that a damp warehouse is no place for a child. How he knows he does not know. But he knows.

He _knows_. It is… still confounding. 

She is wheezing, hunched over, rocking back and forth. She has dark skin and when she looks up at him with terror, he sees her eyes are dark, as well. Her hair is matted and dirty, also dark. Her clothes are stained and torn. 

He immediately drops down beside her and murmurs nonsense, pulling her in close. He did this, once. Or something similar. For someone who was small and frail, but still the strongest person he had ever known. 

He had known people, once. Before. 

_Wipe him._

No. No more wipes. No more cold. 

The little girl slowly calms, but her breath still sounds wrong. She needs – medicine. What kind? 

“Th-thanks,” she mumbles into his chest, ear still pressed over his heart.

What kind does not matter. He will get them all. 

.

She falls asleep tucked against him and he gently lays her down, wishing he could put his jacket over her but he needs it to hide the not-arm. There is a drugstore five blocks away. He does not know what the girl suffers from. He does not know how medicine has changed – he does not remember what medicine used to be. 

(Fuck, but he’s useless.)

Libraries contain information. The sun set five hours ago; all libraries are closed. 

But the internet – he knows he has heard his various teams complain about the internet. _Everything_ is on the internet. 

He must access the internet. How? 

The girl coughs in her sleep. 

He will find a way. 

.

He returns with seven bags of different medications and a stolen “iphone.” The girl wakes up as he settles next to her. 

“Do you know your illness?” he asks. 

To his relief, it is simply garden-variety asthma without any of the complications _someone_ he knew once had. He has more than enough medication for her. 

Once she can take a full breath, she holds out a hand. “I’m Yasmin,” she says politely. 

He stares at her hand for a moment before gently taking it and carefully pumping up and down. “I have no name,” he replies. 

_Your name is James Buchanan Barnes._

“You’ve gotta have a name,” she says, staring at him. “Everyone’s got a name.”

He shrugs without thinking about it, then pauses, wondering what a shrug means and why he did it. “I have no name,” he repeats. 

Yasmin climbs to her feet, using his shoulder to steady herself. “I’ve got stuff over here,” she says. “Maybe it’ll give us an idea for your name.” 

She heads further into the corner, towards a collection of things he had thought was just waste. But it is in fact two bags, one a duffle and one a booksack, both stuffed to the brim with pointless items of no strategic value. 

“Here!” Yasmin shouts, pulling a tattered bear out of the duffle. “Your name is Bucky, just like Bucky Bear!” 

“What,” he says. 

_Who the hell is Bucky?_

Yasmin hurries to him, offering the bear. “See?” she says. 

He takes the bear carefully because, for whatever reason, it is clearly precious to her. Nothing has ever been precious to him but he has seen others treat things as if they were. The bear is old and worn down, with bare patches on both its belly and one of its feet. Once, it had been brown but now it is more of a gray. It has a mask drawn on its face with what looks like black marker. 

“He’s not a real Bucky Bear,” Yasmin tells him. “But Mama named him Bucky ages ago, back when she was little. He’s a good bear.” 

He nods, offering the bear back. Yasmin gently takes it and wraps her arms around it. 

“Do you like the name?” she asks. “Only, you gotta have a name, you know?” 

“It will suffice,” Bucky says. It is the correct thing to say because Yasmin’s face brightens and she straightens up. 

“You wanna have cereal?” she asks, turning back to her bags. 

Cereal? He takes the small box she holds out and extracts a handful of – grains? crackers? he has no idea what they are. She extracts another handful and they share the box back and forth until it all gone. 

Bucky resolves to examine her supplies and ascertain what she needs so that he can restock at the earliest opportunity. 

.

Children do not belong in warehouses. Bucky knows this without knowing why. He watches Yasmin pack her bags back up, gently tucking Bucky Bear at the very top of the booksack. 

He asks, “Why are you here instead of in a home?” People have homes. He knows this. Whether it be an apartment, a house, or somewhere else – people have homes. Children are people. 

Yasmin shrugs her shoulders. “Mama couldn’t stay, so she left me with Uncle and I—” She bites down on the words, turning away so that Bucky cannot see her face. “I didn’t like living with Uncle,” she says. “So I left, just like Mama.” 

Bucky studies her dirty and worn clothes, her ragged bags. “How long have you been here?” he asks. 

She shrugs again. “Awhile.” 

Bucky is not familiar with children. “Define awhile.” 

“Like, two days,” she says, turning back around. “I walked and walked and walked till I found this place. I took lots of Uncle’s food so I’d have enough. I _planned_ it.” She sounds very proud of herself. 

“May I examine your supplies?” he asks. “It may be time to restock.” 

She slumps down. “The cereal was it. Only my treasures are left, and you can’t eat treasures.” 

Bucky checks the time on the phone; it is 10:46 in the morning. “We must clean ourselves,” he says. “Then we will eat lunch and I will restock your food.” 

“How?” Yasmin asks, slinging the booksack onto her back. 

“That has yet to be determined,” he tells her, holding out his hand for the duffle. “Two nights ago, I found a shelter that offers free showers. Follow me.” 

.

In the rush of the crowd, no one notices Bucky. He is merely one of many. Yasmin garners little attention, as well; she is a clever child and tags along behind a woman guiding multiple children to the area for the younger ones. 

Bucky slips into one of the shower stalls and quickly bathes, taking the most care with the arm that is not his. It has been glitching more often but not enough to worry about, yet. He is still formidable enough to defend himself and a child, should the need arise. 

_Leave him alone or I’ll make you, you hear me?_

Yasmin is loitering near the snack table when he exits the men’s area. She is wearing different clothes: clean blue jeans and a shirt with an American-themed shield on it – Captain America’s shield. Her hair is pulled back in a long braid. 

“Lunch?” she asks, reaching up for his true hand. “I want McDonald’s!” 

He has several hundred dollars, taken from the site where he should have waited to be collected. “That is adequate.” 

.

Yasmin orders herself a chicken nugget Happy Meal while Bucky examines the menu. There are so many options and none of it is appetizing. But the woman at the register is getting impatient (he knows by her eyes) so he finally says, “Number one.” Why not? It is as unappealing as the rest. 

While Bucky waits near the drink dispenser, Yasmin chooses a table. She settles Bucky Bear into the chair next to her and arranges the napkins on the table in some formation Bucky cannot determine the meaning of. When their order is ready, Bucky grabs the tray and carries it over to the table.

He eats. He – does not like it. But he is hungry and he needs to replenish his strength, so he eats both the sandwich and the French fries while Yasmin eats her chicken nuggets and French fries, chattering on about Bucky Bear’s adventure at the shelter. 

Bucky Bear, it seems, decided to challenge a boy who was hassling a younger girl. 

That sounds very familiar. 

“Does he do that often?” Bucky asks. 

Yasmin nods, setting down her cup of fruit punch. “He’s always fightin’ bullies,” she says. “’cause that’s the right thing to do.” 

The right thing? Bucky dips his last fry in the ketchup and asks, “What are more right things?” 

.

Right things, Yasmin says as they shuffle along the sidewalk, are standing up to bullies, not lying unless it’s important, not stealing unless you'll go hungry otherwise, being nice to _old_ old people and little kids, and being quiet when Mama asks you to. 

Bucky figures he can do all of those things. He asks, “Will doing only right things turn someone into a good person?” 

Yasmin considers that for two blocks and then, while they pause to wait for the WALK to light up, she says, “Only good people do right things, so you have to be good if you do them.”

That makes sense. 

On the other side of the street, a woman shouts as two men run past. Bucky’s eyes track them – they will cross at the end of the block, both of them carry weapons, and the woman – he blinks. 

The woman has a weapon of her own. 

Bucky glances down at Yasmin. “Is one of the right things knowing when not to get involved?” he asks. 

She nods seriously.

WALK lights up, so they cross the street. 

.

He buys non-perishables with his masters’ money. Why he feels some enjoyment from that thought, he does not know. He does not share it with Yasmin.

She demands sweets; he takes even more pleasure from using his masters’ money to buy her more chocolate than she can carry. 

He knows he is using too much money. He also knows where more is waiting. This evening, while Yasmin sleeps, he will retrieve it. 

He purchases clothes for both of them, stronger bags for Yasmin’s treasures, a newspaper that has him (masked, the not-arm bare) on the front page, supplies for sustenance. He throws in a packet of hair-ties and a set of eating utensils because he stored most of his weapons with his masters’ gear.

They leave the store weighed down with bags and no way to transport them. Bucky glances around the parking lot; he could easily steal a vehicle, but he knows that is not on the list of right things. There had been a section full of bags; Yasmin had chosen two. 

There are benches inside, so he guides her to them and tells her to wait with Bucky Bear. He purchases six large cloth bags and returns to Yasmin; they both fill the new bags and then Bucky carries them all, leaving Yasmin only her bags of treasure. 

The sun will set soon. The warehouse from last night was faulty; Bucky knows they can find somewhere better. 

.

They bed down in a barely-finished house at the edge of a new subdivision. Yasmin demands he tell her a story, tucked into a blanket with Bucky Bear, and Bucky – does not know any stories. He thinks – 

“Once,” he says, “a long time ago. There was a boy who always did the right thing.” That is a good start, yes? Yasmin is listening with hope in her eyes, so Bucky nods firmly and continues, “Even when it was hard, and even on the coldest days, he always set out to do what was good, and so he did.” What comes next? “He had a friend who tried to tell him to be careful, to not get into so many fights, but the boy, he never listened.”

He pauses, staring down at Yasmin. She frowns at him. “And then?” 

“Then,” he says. “Then, the boy’s friend had to go away. He did not want to but he could not stay.” 

Where is this coming from? 

_Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back._

“There were very bad people halfway around the world and the boy’s friend had to fight them. The boy, he, he—” Why is Bucky’s voice shaking? His shoulders? 

Yasmin’s hands touch his. “Hey, it’s alright,” she’s saying softly, leaning in, tucking herself against him. “It’s okay, Bucky, it’s okay. You want me to tell a story instead?” 

He nods, eyes closed. He feels – he does not know. Tired. Worn. 

“C’mon, lay down,” Yasmin says, pulling at his not-arm. He lets himself fall over, carefully folding himself around Bucky Bear, and Yasmin arranges the blankets around him before wiggling her way into the middle. She wraps Bucky’s arms around her, and then her arms around Bucky Bear. 

The story she tells sounds familiar, about a princess who was hated by her stepmother and then became lost in the woods, found by seven little men. Yasmin falls asleep before the end, but Bucky is fairly sure (not certain) that it ends with a prince saving the princess. Happily ever after. 

What is happily, and what is ever after? He does not know. It sounds nice. 

He needs to get up and go to where his masters store their money. But he also wants to keep holding Yasmin, listening to her breathe, feeling her heartbeat.

Want?

He requires the money to keep Yasmin safe and content. That decides the situation for him. He extracts himself from the blankets, making sure to tuck them back tightly around her, and then he leaves. 

.

There are five men at the location with the money. He has only a dull knife, meant for food not fighting. 

Killing was not on the list of right things. But these men – he does not know them, has never seen their faces. (Would he remember, if he had?)

But. If these men know he has been here, his masters will hunt for him. He _knows_ what will happen if his masters take Yasmin. 

At the thought, he feels… _angry_. 

He has only a dull knife. It is sufficient. He returns to Yasmin with over a thousand dollars and a “tablet” that he has downloaded the location’s hard-drive onto.

He has a child to care for. He cannot continue on blindly. 

_Look, stop trying to do everything yourself. I’m here. I’ll always be here._

.

They slowly move south. They sleep in different places every night; Bucky arranges their supplies for easier transport. Yasmin explains more about right things and wrong things, and also shows Bucky how tell stories. 

They bathe at shelters and once at a pond. Bucky does not let Yasmin see his not-arm. She does not talk about why she left home. 

They are, he thinks, happy. 

.

In Raleigh, North Carolina, Yasmin asks if they can go see the turtle movie. 

“The turtle movie?” Bucky repeats. 

She nods excitedly and then rambles about giant talking turtles who are also, somehow, ninjas.   
They have no plans for later that day so Bucky takes her to the movie. 

.

They see it again the next day. And the one after that. 

Every city they pass through, they see another movie. They try new foods. Bucky teaches Yasmin a few self-defense techniques and she shares the books in her treasures.

It is pleasant, this wandering. He enjoys it in a way he cannot remember enjoying anything. And Yasmin is always laughing, smiling, so he knows she finds it pleasing, too. 

.

There is much he does not remember. Much he knows without knowing why. When they spend their days at libraries, he researches, trying to put things in their proper places. 

_I knew him._

James Buchanan Barnes. There are a few biographies that are mostly propaganda and supposition. Barnes died a hero. He grew up with Steve Rogers, the man who became Captain America. He had four sisters (all deceased) and the pictures do not look familiar. He does not recognize the man and woman who were his parents. 

Steven Grant Rogers. There are dozens of biographies and they are filled with lies. He knows it without knowing how or why. He skims the books, carefully keeping his not-hand away because he cannot damage library books; that is on the list of right things. Library books are precious. 

Howling Commandos. 

Hydra. 

The day he researches Hydra is a bad day. He can barely tuck Yasmin in, though he promises to return. He is terrified and furious and needs to – needs to – no. He _wants_ to. 

He knows where every safehouse and research facility is. He knows his masters’ name now. He knows what they did to him, what they stole, what they poured in. Over and over and over. He does not _remember_ but he knows.

Standing up to bullies is always the right thing. 

It has been eight months since he dragged Captain America onto the shore and left him there. It has been five months since he found Yasmin. It has been five months since he began tracking his masters, requisitioning their funds for his own use. 

Hydra believes their asset to be dead. His body was not found at the site of the failed mission, but the asset could not care for itself, so it has surely crawled away to die of untended-to wounds. 

Every agent who knew of the asset’s origins is dead. Pierce was the last one left. 

He wants – vengeance. He does. He storms into the safehouse, slaughters the two agents hiding there, and destroys the building, and he is still _so angry_. But he cannot go after Hydra the way his hands long to because he must care for Yasmin. 

He -- _Bucky_ sterilizes the site. Should anyone investigate, they will determine that two squatters turned on each other. Nothing of value will be missing. 

Bucky finds his way to a uninhabited area and lets himself fall to his knees. He kneels there, arm and not-arm wrapped around his middle, breathing so quickly it hurts, eyes squeezed shut. 

He does not remember being Bucky Barnes. He wishes he did not remember being the asset. He chokes on the rage, the hatred, the terror, and the horror. He wants to burn everything down until nothing hurts anymore. 

He wants to be good. But he will never again be good for Hydra, and he does not want Steve Rogers to say it is pointless to try, as Captain America certainly will if they ever cross paths again. Bucky Barnes had been good, had done the right thing. Bucky as he is now… 

He does not know what to do. He knows that he is sobbing and he finally just lets himself scream until his voice is gone. He cannot hunt Hydra. He cannot trust anyone but himself and Yasmin. He stays on his knees until his breath is under control and then he rises.

No more wiping. No more missions. No more pain.

Bucky returns to Yasmin, pulls her to his chest, and holds her till the sun rises. 

.

 _stop please stop please stop I don’t stop please stop STEVE where stop please please_  
.

As they eat their mcgriddles, Bucky says, “Tell me about the right things again.” 

Yasmin talks about standing up to bullies, about stealing and lying as the last resort, about being nice to kids and grandparents, about listening to Mama. (She mentions her mother less and less as the weeks pass. She never mentions her uncle at all.) 

They discard their trash and walk towards a nearby park. Bucky asks, “What do you know about vengeance?” 

Yasmin shrugs. “Isn’t it a bad thing?” Bucky shrugs in reply so Yasmin ponders it all the way to the park. She drags him to the swings and orders, “Push me!” so they do that for a while. 

After Yasmin jumps off the swing and Bucky yells at her for it, they settle side-by-side against a tree and Yasmin says, “Vengeance is hurting somebody for hurting you, right?” 

Bucky pulls out his phone to check the internet. “Yes,” he says after a moment. 

Yasmin nods. “Then it’s dangerous. ‘cause if you hurt somebody for hurting you, they’ll just hurt you back again. You gotta… you gotta get out. Don’t hurt ‘em back.” She shivers a little in the chill autumn air, so Bucky wraps his arm around her, pulling her in close. 

As always, Yasmin makes sense. 

.

Their plans for the day involve seeing a movie about teenage geniuses and pet robots, so Bucky and Yasmin head to the theater a few hours early; Yasmin enjoys the games in the waiting area and Bucky really likes the hot dogs. While he eats, he researches proverbs on vengeance out of curiosity: proverbs tell a great deal about what people value. 

His entire body stills when he reads _Living well is the best revenge_. He blinks down at the words for a long moment before smiling, bright and wide like he cannot remember doing before. 

He will live well. Every day, he will spit into Hydra’s face and smirk because he is alive. 

_Bucky is alive_. Their asset has ceased functioning. This shall be his vengeance. 

“Bucky!” Yasmin shouts, running over to him and grabbing his arm. “C’mon, race me!” He follows her to one of the racing games and lets himself laugh and be glad because he is free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: Bucky and Steve aren’t mine. Yasmin is. Title from Langston Hughes. Some of the quotes are from either of the Cap movies; some I made up because they seemed like things Bucky might say.  
> Warnings: less implied and more directly stated bad things happening to a child in the past; everything the presence of the Winter Soldier implies; talk of violence/death/roaring rampage of revenge; talk of what Avengers2 might be  
> Pairings: none  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 3880  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: _At some point, Yasmin is going to have to go to school (since that's what good kids do), and it would be interesting to see them attempt to assimilate (and likely fail in a spectacularly win kind of fashion as they deal with the system)._.  
>  Note: So... there's probably at least one more part coming. Because Steve has to meet Yasmin. *headdesk*

Bucky chooses Miami for the heat and the anonymity. Yasmin chatters on about alligators. 

In spite of the heat, Bucky still wears long sleeves. He chooses thin shirts with bright, eye-catching patterns (“tropical”) because if his shirt is noticeable, that is what people will remember instead of his face. Also, he likes the way looking at them makes him feel; unless it is a bad day, seeing the print makes him smile. He cuts his hair to a more manageable length. He finally allows Yasmin to see his not-arm. 

She heaves a long-suffering sigh and says, “Bucky, I figured that out _ages_ ago.” 

He blinks down at her then back at the not-arm. “How?” he asks. “I have taken care to keep it hidden.” 

Yasmin sighs again. “It feels different, silly. I figured you got hurt.” She glances away for a moment. “Sometimes people don’t like talkin’ about their hurts.” 

Bucky kneels. “Yes,” he says. “Bad people hurt me. But I am free of them and with you now. That is all that matters.” 

She nods firmly, throwing her arms around his neck. “And I’m free with you,” she agrees.

. 

That night, it’s Bucky’s turn to tell a story. They trade off; Bucky prefers the nights Yasmin talks about princesses and fairies to his nights, because often, he does not remember how the story ends. He is still not the best at making things up. 

But this night, he talks about a good boy who always does the right thing and his best friend who did the best he could to keep his friend safe.

Bad people captured the friend and took his arm, Bucky tells her, giving him a weapon in its place, and they had him do many bad things.

“But,” he says, blinking back tears he still does not understand, “the good boy finally found his friend, and though they had a truly terrible fight, the good boy did his best to not hurt him. And when he said those secret words, his friend heard them.” His voice shakes and Yasmin pats his arm comfortingly. He smiles at her, glancing down at where she’s tucked against his chest. 

“The friend could not stay, you understand,” he says. “He had to find himself, relearn how to be a man.” 

“What about the good boy?” Yasmin asks. “That’s a sad ending, Bucky.” 

He shrugs the not-shoulder. “The good boy is still searching, I think, hoping to bring his friend home.” 

Someone has been destroying Hydra bases on the other side of the world; the safe-houses he’s accessed have all been communicating about it.

“But the friend,” he says, leaning his head and closing his eyes. “The friend is still learning how to be a man.” 

.

He remembers many things now. There are more still he knows without knowing how or why. One of them is forging things. When and why Hydra taught him is still a blank spot among thousands, but for some reason, Bucky knows how to forge papers and create an identity that would pass any government check. 

It is the one thing he thanks Hydra for. 

And so while Yasmin is sleeping one night, before they settle in Miami, Bucky goes to a forgotten safe-house in Fort Myers and creates a dozen identities for each of them. One of his immediately purchases a one-way ticket for the first flight to Toronto and he then erases all evidence that any of them were created.

He keeps Yasmin’s name while giving her the new surname of Taylor because it is common. For himself, he chooses the first name William. He knows that his name was once James Buchanan Barnes – but he remembers not liking James, and Buchanan would be noticeable, and Barnes… he cannot be called Bucky if his last name is Barnes. 

He does not want any of his old selves’ names. Those all died with him in the snow. 

And so he leaves Fort Myers as Billy Taylor, with custody of his niece Yasmin Taylor. In case anyone notices the arm, Billy Taylor is an honorably discharged vet with a high-tech prosthetic. His brother Dan and sister-in-law Lisa died in an accident. 

This, he explains to Yasmin that night, is an important lie and that makes it okay to tell. “I am your Uncle Bucky,” he tells her. “You should call me that now.” 

“But uncles are bad,” she argues, arms tight around Bucky Bear, eyes squeezed shut. “They, they’re mean and they hurt you.” 

At that, he feels himself go still. “They what?” he asks as softly and gently as he can while wanting to slaughter something.

Yasmin shakes her head. “You can’t be an uncle,” she says, eyes still closed. “Uncles are bad. You’re good.” 

He sighs and nods. “Then I am still just Bucky,” he says. “But if anyone asks, I am your uncle. I have custody of you because my brother died. Our name is Taylor now.” 

She blinks up at him, tears leaking out of her dark eyes. He kneels and opens his arms; still holding Bucky Bear, she runs into them and he wraps them around her.

Her uncle is most likely in Baltimore, where he found her. She has yet to mention any names from her past at all. 

One day, he _will_ track the man down and punish him, but it is not this day. This day, he stands, carrying Yasmin, and goes to their nest, where he cuddles around her and relays their carefully-crafted history as best he can. She finally begins adding embellishments of her own. 

.

In Miami, Bucky finds them an adequate living space and enrolls Yasmin in the nearest school. She is of age for first or second grade, depending on her reading level; she loves books and reads well, so he chooses second grade. It has been over a year since he began taking care of Yasmin, since she began teaching him how to do good. The school year for young children will resume in mere weeks. 

He does not want to entrust her safety to strangers. Can barely stand the thought of her out of his sight for _hours_ , for an entire day _five days in a row_.

But Yasmin had sighed heavily and said, “Kids haveta go to school, Bucky.” 

And so Yasmin Taylor was enrolled with no fanfare and no questions.

.

But while Yasmin was happily learning with playmates her own age and teachers who found her utterly charming, Billy Taylor needed something to do. They could live off Hydra’s spoils for a long time – but someone, eventually, was going to notice all the funds missing and begin investigating. He needed something else to pay for the rent, the bills, the groceries, the school supplies, and the hundred other miscellaneous things Bucky Barnes had been good at spinning money for and that Winter Soldier never had to worry about. 

He is good at tinkering with things. He wandered around the neighborhoods closest to their apartment and eventually found an old woman with a small shop who needed both handyman and a front desk worker. Her son had gotten into trouble with a local gang and fled, leaving his mama to clean up his mess; Bucky came to her attention when he stepped in while a tough tried to threaten her. 

(The right thing, as Yasmin had explained over and over, was to stand up to bullies and be nice to old people. A big man threatening a little old lady? There was no way Bucky couldn’t get involved.)

Defending Lucia Reyes also endeared him to the community at large. How gentle and loving he was with Yasmin only cemented his position, and he actually began trying to develop his personality with Lucia’s help. 

. 

Lucia invites them to dinner almost every night; she’s taking care of her grandchildren, though they’re all too old to be in Yasmin’s class, so it’s always loud. But it’s a good loud. Bucky operates the front desk, greeting customers, and he tinkers with the things that break or glitch, and he is a deterrent for anyone looking to cause trouble. 

Martina and Rodrigo, the oldest grandchildren at 16 and 15, help Yasmin and the younger two, Yelena and Simon (13 and 11) with homework. Sometimes, if it’s a math problem, Bucky can show them how to do it. He doesn’t remember much of his younger years at school, but the math in their homework comes easily to him. He’s no good at history (doesn’t want to think about the things it sparks in his head) or English or literature or science, but nothing in their books trips him when it comes to math. It just makes sense. And it makes him happy to do it because it works every time, unlike anything else. 

Sometimes people come in just to sell something, so Bucky looms beside Lucia as she barters with them. Only once does a middle-aged white man get angry with the price Lucia offers for his piece of shit lamp. When Bucky asks softly, “Is there a problem here?” the man glares at him before swiftly backing down. He takes Lucia’s offer. 

After he leaves, Lucia pats Bucky’s arm and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re a good boy, William,” she says. 

He ducks his head. She chuckles and heads back to her office, leaving him to mind the front. He settles back at the register with a workbook for Differential Equations and loses himself in the math. 

.

He never forgets there is a weapon inside him, no matter what delicate work he uses the not-arm for. He never forgets, but he puts it aside. 

Yasmin makes friends with a little boy named Angelo and a little girl named Megan. She asks for playdates and he arranges things with Megan’s two mothers and Angelo’s Aunt Evangeline. He works forty hours a week for Lucia and then goes exploring with Yasmin and Lucia’s grandchildren, learning Miami the way he once knew Brooklyn. (He does not truly remember Brooklyn, but he knows he once knew it.) 

He is a man. He thinks he must be a good one for so many good people to like him.

.

The school year passes. For Halloween, Yasmin dresses up as her favorite character Lilo from a movie Bucky actually likes a lot; it was the first movie he bought. He asked Lucia for help in creating Yasmin’s costume and she’d laughed, then helped him relearn how to sew and darn. 

While they create the costume, Lucia explains Día de los Inocentes and Día de los Muertos to Bucky. She keeps the shop closed on those days. Yasmin spends the weekend after Halloween with Megan while Bucky stays home. After he drops her off at Megan’s, he returns to the apartment and curls up in his bed. 

He does not want to, but he knows that he must. And so he goes to the memories he tries not to remember and lets them play, with his eyes closed and tears sliding down his face. 

Bucky remembers every child the Winter Soldier killed, directly or indirectly, and he asks their forgiveness. He holds each of them in his mind for a single minute and then he lets them go. He can do nothing else.

On Día de los Muertos, while Yasmin is still with Megan, Bucky remembers every man and woman the Winter Soldier killed, directly or indirectly, and asks their forgiveness. Whether he deserves it or not – and he knows he does not – he can only hope that they, wherever they are, are at peace. 

Bucky does not believe in God, of any religion, or an afterlife. He hopes there is nothing but quiet after death. But he also hopes that Yasmin, and Lucia, and Martina and Rodrigo and Yelena and Simon, Angelo and Megan, and Steve --

_It’s me, it’s Steve. Oh, God, Bucky._

If there is a Heaven, he hopes they all get there. He knows he won’t. 

.

Bucky and Yasmin spend Thanksgiving with Lucia’s family. It is just Lucia, the grandchildren, Bucky and Yasmin. Before they eat, Lucia has them all go around the table and say something they are thankful for. Yasmin’s turn is before Bucky’s, and she says, “I’m thankful that Bucky found me and Bucky Bear.” 

Lucia tilts her head to the side, eyes going to Bucky, but he simply says, “I am thankful for Yasmin and our new friends here in Miami.” 

While the younger kids play in the family room, Martina and Rodrigo begin straightening up the kitchen. Lucia guides Bucky to the backyard. “Now, there’s a lot of questions I haven’t asked,” she starts, “and a lot of questions I never will. You were hurtin’ when you got here, and you’re still hurtin’, but I’ve done my best to help you where I can.” She looks up at Bucky with eyes as dark as Yasmin’s and she says, “Your past is your business, just like my past is my business. So I’m not gonna ask about what Yasmin said because it’s clear to me that you love that little girl more than you do yourself and that you’d die before you hurt her.” 

Bucky blinks down at her, at a loss. Lucia smiles, a bit sadly. “I know that you’re runnin’ from something and I know that it’s bad.” She reaches up to pat his cheek and he leans into the touch without meaning to.

“You can talk to me, William, if you need to. I’ll even try not to offer advice unless you want it.” She lets her hand fall. “Remember that. Promise me.”

“I promise,” he says. 

She nods and pats his shoulder this time. “Now, are you a big man too old for hugs?” 

He shakes his head, just a bit terrified, and she smiles, wide and bright, before giving him a long hug. “You’re a good boy,” she murmurs into his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says. _For the job, for the welcome, for your trust._

“Just keep takin’ care of that girl and yourself,” she says.

“I will,” he promises.

.

Bucky buys Christmas presents for Yasmin, and Lucia, and then joint-presents for Lucia’s grandchildren. He and Yasmin bake for their neighbors and visit for a few minutes with each. They spend Christmas Eve at Lucia’s and then Christmas Day together. 

With Martina’s help, Yasmin made multiple presents for Bucky, including half a dozen different gloves to hide his not-hand. 

“It’s a part of you,” she says while he stares down into the box, “and I think it’s sad that you hide it. But I love you so I’m not gonna tell you that.” 

He chuckles, pulling out the rainbow-spotted glove first. “Thank you for that, Yasmin,” he says. 

For Yasmin, he bought a dozen Disney movies, three different series of books, three more stuffed bears (one with a shield), and an ipod. 

He could vaguely remember Christmases in the past, with his parents and sisters and Steve, but no presents that he had ever received before. It is a good day. 

.

Yasmin Taylor’s birthday is July 17; he does not think Yasmin knows it, but that is the day he heard her coughing in the warehouse. William Taylor’s birthday is April 6, the day Captain America and his team revealed Hydra to the world. 

.

After the school year ends, Bucky cuts back his hours at Lucia’s shop. He and Yasmin go on little adventures around Miami; sometimes her friends or Lucia’s grandchildren go with them. 

When the Avengers team back up, it makes the news. Bucky watches like all the civilians do, and he – the weapon is asleep inside him. He could make a difference. The Bucky that died in the snow is screaming for him to go help Steve. 

But that Bucky died in the snow. Died in Hydra’s gullet. Part of doing the right thing is knowing when to not get involved, and he has Yasmin to think of, now. He has Lucia and Martina and Rodrigo and Yelena and Simon. They depend on him. 

Three days after the first fight, the Hydra safe-house in Miami is accessed. When the alarm chimes, it wakes Bucky up. Yasmin is at Angelo’s house, spending the night because the next day is Angelo’s pool party for his birthday. 

Someone is at the Hydra safe-house.

Bucky goes. 

.

The agent is young, wounded, and scared.

When Bucky asks questions, the agent answers desperately. He clearly does not know who Bucky is, but – as Bucky learned well under Hydra’s tutelage – pain is a powerful motivator. 

Hydra, to the best of the agent’s knowledge, has no part in the Avengers’ battle, but is taking advantage of their distraction. The alpha target is Captain America and he is wanted alive. Why, the agent does not know. 

Bucky can guess and it fills him with a cold, clear rage. He executes the agent and cleans up the mess, then returns to his apartment to plan. 

In this situation, the right thing to do is obvious. 

.

He picks Yasmin up from Angelo’s party with a bright grin and lets her ramble on excitedly all the way home. It’s not until they’re inside with the door locked that Yasmin turns a steely gaze on him. “What’s wrong?” she asks, sounding older than she has any right to for a seven year old. (Is she? She’s either seven or eight, but Yasmin Taylor definitely has not turned eight yet.) “Bucky,” she says, crossing her arms. 

He shakes himself out of the curiosity and nods firmly. “There is something I have to do,” he says. “A right thing. I cannot – you cannot come with me, Yasmin.” 

She bites her lip. “Is it dangerous?” she asks. 

“Exceedingly,” he says. “But my friend is in trouble.” 

“Okay.” Yasmin nods and hurries over to him, throwing her arms around his waist. “Be super careful, swear,” she says. “And you gotta come back to me, Bucky, you gotta.” He can hear the tears in her voice. “If you don’t, I’m gonna go looking for you.” 

“I will come back to you,” he says.

.

Martina agrees to stay in the apartment with Yasmin. Lucia will also visit periodically. Bucky informs the neighbors and the landlord that he’s been called away for a sudden emergency and everyone promises to keep an eye on Yasmin. She is quite beloved. Bucky swears to call, email, or text every day, though he also explains that if the connection is not safe, he will not contact her.

When she hugs him goodbye, sobbing all over his shirt, Bucky Bear is held tight in her grip. She shoves Captain Ameribear, one of her Christmas presents, into his hands, so he brings the bear with him. 

.

In the aftermath of Project Insight, the public had been assured that the gunman who’d attacked Captain America had perished. Hydra believes he died of his wounds months ago. 

He does not go dressed as the Winter Soldier. Bucky Barnes died in the snow; the Winter Soldier died in the Potomac. He is neither of them and he is both of them.

_Jeeze, Stevie, how many times do I gotta tell ya? I’m with you ‘til the end of the line. Don’t forget it, pal._

Captain America, with sporadic help from his various teammates, went on a crusade against Hydra until he was distracted by some terrible thing called Ultron (according to the news outlets). What very few people know is that he was also looking for someone long thought lost.

But now he is distracted. And while he is distracted, Hydra plans to capture him so that they can utilize techniques perfected on his dead best friend and turn him into the Fist of Hydra. And he does not even know that is a danger.

A very long time ago, Bucky Barnes died protecting Steve Rogers. Not so long ago, the Winter Soldier died dragging Captain America out of the water. 

There are right things and there are wrong things. And this… 

Bucky glances at the bear nestled in amongst his weapons and smiles. This is a right thing. That, all parts of him agree on. 

And there is no one in the world who will see him coming.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude from Steve's pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: Not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.  
> Warnings: Warnings for violence/torture/death and everything involved with the existence of the Winter Soldier. Also, maybe a smidge of implied organized crime? Speculation on Avengers2.  
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1785  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Any; Any; 5 pasts, 1 future

_6_

"Hey, stop!" he hears from where he's curled up on the ground, covering his head with his arms. "Get outta here, all'a ya!" 

The feet kicking him all stop, but he doesn't trust it, so he stays down. 

And then, "Hey, kid, y'alright?" The voice sounds younger when it's softer. A hand nudges his back. "You alive in there?" 

He uncurls carefully, wincing at the pain. 

"C'mon," the voice says and he raises his head to see a boy about his age, maybe a little older, bigger, with dark hair and pale eyes, holding out a steady hand. "Let's get you home." 

 

_13_

He actually didn't mean to this time, but it doesn't matter -- their pride is ruffled, the three Miller boys, and Steve’s still sore from that cough he had last week. 

He fights back, of course, but it’s not long before he’s down, all curled up tight, and he’s glad Bucky’s not here, because even the smallest Miller boy is bigger than Bucky, but then he hears, “Leave him alone or I’ll _make_ you, you hear me?!” and he wants to get up and help Bucky, but he can’t catch a full breath. 

Finally, Bucky’s hand is on his back and he murmurs, “C’mon up, Steve, they’re gone.”

Bucky’s got a split lip and a black eye and Steve wishes he were bigger so that Bucky would stop getting hurt for him. 

 

_19_

Ma’s been gone for three months and he still wakes up every day having forgotten until he thinks about what breakfast might be. Today is her birthday. 

He nearly rolls over to go back to sleep but – he’s got work, actual _work_ this week, and he needs to start paying Bucky back because he knows the money would be better spent on Bucky’s baby sisters than on him. 

So he gets up, goes to work, works through lunch, and then purchases a single flower to take to Ma’s grave. 

It’s on the way back that he gets into trouble. 

Bucky had told him to avoid this street unless Bucky was with him, but didn’t want to explain why. It’s a shortcut from the cemetery to the apartment, and he thought it’d be fine at this time of day, but six toughs are circling him, looking angry, and he just. He’s so tired. 

He fights, of course he fights, and then Bucky is there. Steve’s collapsed against the wall, watching as Bucky tears through the men, silent and cold as stone. After the first two go down, the rest flee, and then Bucky turns that glare on Steve.

“You are so fuckin’ stupid, Rogers!” he shouts, fists clenched. “I told ya, didn’t I, I told you to wait for me!”

“I just wanted to visit her grave,” Steve mumbles. 

Bucky closes his eyes and rubs at his face before sighing. “I’m sorry, Stevie. You gotta be more careful, though.” He walks over and leans down, offering a hand. “Let’s get you home.”

 

_22_

Bucky got in another argument with his folks and Steve knows it’s over how much his medicine costs. He can’t even move from the bed, his body hurts so much. Bucky hasn’t been back all day and he’ll be staying out tonight, too, looking for extra work.

Steve likes Bucky’s parents; Miss Winnie and Ma had been good friends since they were girls. But he understands, and he wishes Bucky did, too, that the girls come first. Bucky thinks they’re all equal. They’re not, though. The girls should always come first.

In the morning, Steve forces himself out of bed. He cleans up as best he can, puts on his neatest clothes, and goes looking for anyone who needs help doing anything.

There’s nothing, of course. One of the assistants actually chases him away from Mr. Malloy’s shop and Steve trips as he dodges, going down hard. The boy leaves him there and it takes every piece of Steve’s will to get up. 

He keeps looking until dusk. By the time he drags himself back into the apartment, he feels even worse and he just wants to sleep. 

He wakes up to Bucky gently pulling his clothes off. “You went out, didn’t you?” Bucky asks. 

Steve nods, eyes drifting closed again. 

Bucky sighs, but he’s quiet until he crawls in beside Steve and pulls Steve against him. “Look, stop trying to do everything yourself,” he says softly, resting his cheek on the top of Steve’s head. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.” 

 

_25_

Bucky hasn’t been the same since Steve pulled him off that table. He doesn’t talk about any of his experiences before the factory, either; he just offers Steve advice on his plans, explains what some of the orders they get actually require for implementation, and keeps the guys from killing each other.

Sometimes, it seems like Bucky’s the only thing that keeps them all going.

Other times, Bucky just gets so angry, but instead of lashing out, he goes quiet. He’ll just simmer until they have a raid and then – well, prisoners are a good bonus, but it’s not like they have the supplies to care for any plus themselves.

Steve wishes, though, that Bucky would talk to him. He offers every night but Bucky doesn’t take him up on it. Bucky just pulls on that charming grin that kept his dance-card full back home, like Steve hasn’t been able to see past it since they were boys.

It’s a mission like any other, like the dozens they’ve done, when Steve gets separated from the Commandos, turned all around in another factory (they keep building them just as fast as Steve and the rest blow them all to hell), and then he’s hit with – fuck, he doesn’t even know. It’s not the energy weapon, or regular bullets, it’s something… 

He goes down and the last thing he hears is Bucky: “Steve? Steve!” 

Steve wakes up stretched out beneath the stars. He can hear the Commandos nearby, just quiet rumbles; he can’t make out any words. And then Bucky is leaning over him, saying, “Don’t you ever do that again, ya hear?”

“Wha-what happened?” Steve slurs out. He tries sitting up, but Bucky gently pushes him back down and Steve doesn’t have the strength to fight him. 

“What happened is that Hydra tested out a new weapon on you. Whatever that was, it knocked you out.” He tries smiling but can’t hold it. “I thought you were dead.” He pats Steve’s chest before pulling his hand back. “We have no way of knowing if the specs for that weapon were stored elsewhere, but every person in that facility is dead, so here’s hoping.” 

Jim slips in next to Bucky and says, “You were supposed to call me the moment he woke up, Sarge.” 

“Sorry,” Bucky says not sounding sorry at all. He stays close for Jim’s quick medic check but as far as Steve can tell, there’s no lasting effects. Whatever that was, it completely wears off within the hour. 

When Steve suggests they head out, return to base to report the new weapon, Bucky just looks at him. “We’ll move at dawn, Captain,” he says flatly. “Until then, you keep on resting.” 

Steve looks at him right back, head tilted, and Bucky just raises an eyebrow. After a long moment, Steve says, “We’ll stay here till dawn and move out at first light.” 

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep but he wakes again to Bucky leaning against him, face pressed into his shoulder, murmuring, “Don’t you dare leave me behind, not ever. Jeeze, Stevie, how many times do I gotta tell ya? I’m with you ‘til the end of the line. Don’t forget it, pal.” 

Steve wants to reassure him, to hold him – but if he lets on that he heard, Bucky will play it off. So he closes his eyes and lets himself fall back asleep. 

 

 _98_ / _28_

 

When Ultron pulls Steve’s attention away from Hydra – well, Steve can admit he was a bit graceless about it. But Stark called him for help, and saving the world _is_ more important than finding one man.

If he’s a bit more careless, just a little angrier – well, he’s got cause.

It isn’t until things with Ultron are winding down that Natasha says, “Steve, you should look at this.” 

Someone’s been hitting the most secret Hydra bases, the ones that aren’t even whispers. Hydra’s down to almost _nothing_ and Steve knows, he _knows_ that there’s only one person it can be.

“Steve,” Natasha says, exchanging a look with Sam, “you should be prepared for the worst case scenario. Don’t let hope get the better of you.” 

She’s told him all about how Hydra made Bucky Barnes into the Winter Soldier. She went over that goddamned file with him page by page because he had to know, he had to understand what happened to Bucky while he slept in the ice. And then he systematically went after every piece of Hydra he could find and tore it down. He was only ever treating the symptoms, not the cause.

But this, though – he examines every single report, and with Natasha and Stark, pin-points where Bucky must be. He tries to go alone but they won’t let him. 

They don’t trust Bucky. Intellectually, he understands. Emotionally, he’s pissed as all hell about it.

For an entire day after they track him down, Bucky stays in the wind. 

It’s not until Steve sneaks away (and he’s pretty sure the team lets him, which just pisses him off even more) that Bucky finally approaches. 

Steve has no idea what to say. He just watches Bucky slowly walk towards him, heart in his throat, and he wants – 

“I cut off the very last head,” Bucky says. 

“I know,” Steve replies, and he fidgets his fingers to keep from grabbing at Bucky and pulling him in. 

“I – I have to go home now,” Bucky says, eyes darting from Steve to behind him. Steve doesn’t turn but he knows that means at least one of the others is approaching. 

“No, Bucky, don’t leave,” Steve says, just barely keeping himself still. 

“Stevie,” Bucky says, meeting his gaze, “I’ll find you again, I promise. But you’re safe now. That’s all I wanted.” 

As Bucky turns away, Steve shouts, “Let him go! That’s an order.” Natasha, Stark, and Sam all step up next to him to watch Bucky vanish into the sunset. 

“I coulda got him with a tranq,” Barton mutters from Natasha’s other side. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Steve,” Natasha says. 

Bucky looked healthy, clean, and _happy_. He wanted Steve to be _safe_. He said he’d find Steve again. 

For the first time in two years, Steve knows everything will be okay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: The Avengers and their hangers-on aren’t mine. The rest of the characters are. Title from Langston Hughes. Some of the quotes are from either of the Cap movies; some I made up because they seemed like things Bucky might say.  
> Warnings: implied bad things happening to a child in the past; everything the presence of the Winter Soldier implies; violence/death/roaring rampage of revenge; speculation on Cap2  
> Pairings: definitely pre- and post-Steve/Bucky, fullstop.  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 3190  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: _Steve is going to come out of the woodwork at some point, and I think that could be interesting in a variety of different ways. Steve's reaction to the child acquisition could go all kinds of ways_.  
>  Note: please leave prompts for what you’d like to see from this ‘verse! Or a pov you’d like to hear from.  
> Another note: also, if anyone’s curious, when I picture Yasmin, I see [her](https://image-cdn.zap2it.com/images/quvenzhane-wallis-beasts-of-the-southern-wild-huspuppy-fox-searchlight.jpg) with longer hair.

Bucky goes to the nearest prep-site, which is in Orlando. Along with the cryotube and the chair, which he avoids looking at or thinking about, there are also tools for dealing with the not-arm. He knows that it is not at full-function, and has not been since the asset’s failed mission. It is adequate for everyday living, as well as minor fights with the dregs of Hydra or street toughs, and will be for some time – but he must be at optimal operation for what is to come. Nothing can be left to chance, including his battle readiness. 

There are no technicians or handlers waiting for him. He maneuvers around, senses at full alert, and turns no electronics on. 

He wants to destroy the tube and the chair but does not go near them. There can be no evidence of his continued survival until he is ready, until it is far too late. 

Bucky works on the not-arm in the dark, settled into one of the furthest corners with the tools. The asset was never given any information about the not-arm; as a man, he now knows that was intentional. They wanted the asset helpless without their handling. But is common sense and the asset’s perfect recall (when not being recalibrated) that he uses now. 

He slides the last panel shut and grins down at the not-arm. He is far from helpless. 

He puts everything back exactly as he found it and then runs through a series of checks and exercises: the not-arm works perfectly. He is fully operational for the first time in over two years. He grins down at the not-arm again. 

As Bucky turns to leave, he looks towards the chair.

_You shaped the century. I need you to do it one more time._

His not-hand clenches into a fist but he resolutely walks to the door. After, when he has informed Steve of the danger – then, he will return to destroy the chair, all of the chairs. Until then, there can no hint of his survival.

.

Grant Jamison catches a flight from Orlando to Frankfurt. The Avengers are currently dealing with Ultron ( _what the fuck ever that is_ , Bucky thinks, hefting his duffle and calmly heading towards the exit) in Rome, all thought of Hydra and its threat forgotten for the moment. 

(Well, probably not by Steve, Bucky admits, hailing a taxi. Steve’s _true_ anger has always been a cold, slow burn of rage. He doesn’t explode. He gets quiet and he gets _mean_.) 

Bucky shakes off the introspection, wondering where it came from. Why are things becoming clearer? 

His eye is caught by one of the big television screens visible through the large window as the taxi pulls away – Captain America punching a robot so hard its head flies off. 

That is why, he realizes. He has a mission again. He needs intel, and there is only one place to get it. 

_You are so fuckin’ stupid, Rogers! I told ya, didn’t I, I told you to wait for me!_

He watches as Frankfurt passes by. He knows where to go and must get there unnoticed; there are only so many places the new Heads of Hydra can regrow and regroup. All of them have held the asset at one time or another. The Winter Soldier was their prize possession, their greatest weapon. They took great care to keep him unknown. 

_Until_ , he thinks, not-fist clenching inside the bright purple glove Yasmin made for it, _the asset became useless_. He was meant to die on that last mission. In the world created by Project Insight, the asset would be a weapon without a purpose. And far too dangerous to be allowed to live.

What better place to reveal himself than where he was killed and resurrected? 

He pays the driver, hefts his duffle, and exits the taxi. 

.

Bucky spends three days in Frankfurt gathering and checking intel, and then three days traveling. He texts Yasmin each morning as he eats breakfast. 

Many of Hydra’s bases and safe-houses have already been located and ransacked by a grieving and enraged Captain America, but Bucky knows those bases had nothing truly sensitive. They were meant to be sacrificed.

There are other locations, though, that are known only to the Heads of Hydra and their Fist. There are locations never mentioned to anyone, never written down, never recorded in any fashion but in someone’s mind.

They wiped him over and over, eradicated his soul and replaced him with their asset. They killed him and brought something to life inside his body, something that obeyed without question.

And now… he stands on the corner, watching cars pass by, and stares at the first of his targets: an innocuous house that hides horrors beneath its floors. And he thinks, hands tucked into his pockets, body language that of a young man woolgathering, he thinks, _They want to do to Steve what they did to me._

As he ambles away, he texts Yasmin, _Have fun at the movies. I love you_. 

.

He returns very early the next morning, before the sun has risen. 

Half a dozen agents currently live in the house; there is one experimental subject in the rooms below. The agents die before realizing anyone else has entered and he copies everything on their computers before the failsafe kicks in to destroy the information.

He asks the experimental subject, a woman old far before her time, “What do you want?” 

She whispers, with a voice long torn away, “To die.” 

Bucky eases her suffering, collects his newly-acquired data, and leaves. 

.

And so begins a silent, brutal war. It takes his targets far too long to catch on, as he hits location after location, but they eventually do. They try fighting back but all of their truly efficient fighters are out in the field; he was always their greatest, anyway.

The death of Johan Schmidt taught Hydra to have more than one Head; Zola learned that lesson well. Alexander Pierce was merely the Head in the Americas. 

He slaughters each of the European and Asian Heads with all the efficiency and brutality Hydra should expect from their Fist. He executes every scientist and technician, whether they know the wiping procedure or not. He puts bullets into the head of every agent and handler he can find, and he can find them all. 

It takes him three months of intensive work, focused on nothing else, and then he stands before Zola’s greatest pupil. 

The man is old, withered, and trembling. Bucky remembers him. It is clear he remembers Bucky. 

Bucky Barnes, that Brooklyn boy, might have ranted about vengeance and justice. Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s sniper, would have just killed the man without a word. The Winter Soldier would do exactly as ordered, no more and no less. 

He could ask why, could demand answers and explanations, could draw it out and make this man feel every one of those 70 years before his flesh gives out. 

But he is tired. This man is the last Head of Hydra and he is given far too easy a death for the suffering he’s caused the world; Bucky gathers up his kit, returns to his nest, and calls Yasmin. 

“Bucky!” she shouts into the phone. “Bucky, I pet an alligator today!” 

“You did _what_?” he asks, certain he must have heard that wrong. 

“An alligator!” she laughs, and he curls up in the blankets, listening to her detail out every single thing she has done since the last time he called.

.

Without the Heads, Hydra falls. The Avengers and their new SHIELD pick the lower echelons up easily, as they panic. Every member above a certain level is dead and the bodies are steadily recovered. 

It is an easy path to follow. Bucky knows it will not be long before he is found, if he stays. 

He could go home. Steve is safe now. Bucky could destroy every chair; all of the data is already gone, every record, every file. He could destroy every chair and return to Yasmin, pick his life as Billy Taylor back up, Lucia’s shop and the kids. 

_That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight… I'm following him._

Yasmin’s Captain Ameribear catches his attention, from where it rests just inside his duffle, on top of various firearms. As always, the sight of a bear wearing Captain America’s uniform makes him smile. 

He packs everything up, hides it away, and then goes to lurk in the vicinity of the last target. Sometime in the near future, the Avengers or SHIELD will begin sniffing around. 

If Steve is with them, he will either allow himself to be found or approach them himself. If Steve is not – if Steve is not, he will go home to Miami, satisfied with Hydra’s death and the assurance of Steve’s safety. 

.

The Black Widow is the first to access the site. Iron Man follows, attempting to recover any data, along with Hawkeye, guarding the perimeter. Bucky back-tracks them to where they have contained Captain America: Hulk and Thor, together, are keeping him from leaving their base of operations. 

Steve is wounded (from a prior battle, Bucky determines, which is the only thing that keeps his teammates from getting bullets in their skulls [ _Must find some other way of damaging the Hulk_ , he also determines]) and arguing with Falcon about his containment. 

None of them have even realized Bucky is in the building. _Sloppy_. Where is Stark’s AI? 

He does not want to reunite with Steve in the company of his team. He does not want to be contained or interrogated. He just… 

_Steven Grant Rogers, I swear to God – so what if you’re invincible now? You don’t gotta keep testing it!_

“Let me go!” Captain America shouts. “Fucking – what if he’s hurt? Let go!” He finally yanks out of Thor’s grasp, but then Hulk catches him with one giant hand.

“Steve!” Falcon is shouting back. “Steve, we have to make sure it’s safe! I’m sorry, but you – you’re too close to see it.” 

Iron Man’s repulsors alert them long before Iron Man arrives, carrying Black Widow and Hawkeye. “Barnes is long gone,” Hawkeye reports as he drops to the ground. 

“Hey, Hulkie-poo,” Iron Man says, retracting his armor, “can we have Bruce back? I need to do some science.” 

Bucky silently retreats to his supplies and then makes a new nest. It is clear the team will not allow him contact with Captain America. Should he return to Miami, then? Steve is safe. 

_I’m with you ‘til the end of the line_. 

No. He will speak with Steve Rogers and then return to Miami. 

.

It is a full day before Steve slips away from his team. Bucky does not believe he actually escaped; he knows that Steve is being carefully watched, that any aggressive move on his part will cause all of the Avengers to strike. 

But he is no longer a threat to Captain America.

Steve watches him as he carefully moves in; there is in tension in every muscle in Steve’s body. In Bucky’s, too: he wants to run just as much as he wants to burrow into Steve’s skin and let himself be held so tight he aches with it.

He announces, “I cut off the very last Head,” because he did it for Steve and Steve should know that.

It is a relief to hear, “I know.” 

The mission – by the memories, by the non-fiction texts he has studied, the historical record, the forums on the internet, the comics Yasmin loves… he knows that his mission was always Steve Rogers, even before the asset was born of his flesh. 

He can see Steve’s team trying to stealthily approach, so he begins, “I” and then hesitates because – he does not want to say the words. Not yet. But he must, so he finishes, “I have to go home now.” Yasmin is waiting for him. Steve is safe. 

Steve says, “No, Bucky, don’t leave,” something panicked in his tone. 

And that – that reminds Bucky so sharply of the memories , of the nightmares, of the _dreams_. So he meets Steve’s eyes and he says, “Stevie, I’ll find you again, I promise.” He even tries on a smile to say, “But you’re safe now. That’s all I wanted.” And then – he cannot remain there for another moment longer and he flees.

Behind him, he hears Captain America shout, “Let him go! That’s an order.” He does not look back.

.

 

When Bucky returns to Miami, he goes immediately to the shop, where Yasmin is sitting at the counter, flipping through a National Geographic with Martina. 

“Bucky!” she shrieks, launching over the counter at him. He catches her and spins around, holding as tight as he safely can. 

Lucia comes out of the back, Yelena and Simon trailing her. Rodrigo, Bucky knows, is at his apprenticeship to Devon the mechanic. 

Yasmin is chanting, “You’re back you’re back you’re back,” into his neck and Bucky feels… relief, he thinks. He can breathe again.

“Welcome home,” Lucia says, coming over to hug him, despite the fact that Yasmin is still in his arms. 

.

That night, Bucky and Yasmin eat pizza on the couch, with Yasmin curled into Bucky’s side. He tells her about the things he saw, the people he interacted with, a few of the places he went. He redacts a great deal of the information, of course.

Her first question is, “What about your friend?” 

Bucky replies, “He is safe.” 

“Good,” she says. “That’s good.” 

On the beanbag Yasmin requested for her end-of-school present, she has set Bucky Bear and Captain Ameribear side-by-side.

.

That night, Yasmin sleeps curled up beside Bucky for the first time since the turn of the year. He actually sleeps the whole night through, not waking till Yasmin slips out of the bed somewhere after dawn. He heads to the kitchen, where she joins him after brushing her teeth and relieving herself. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” he asks. 

She shrugs. “I guess I missed your ham&cheese eggs,” she says. “Martina never got it right, and she wouldn’t let me use the stove.” Yasmin pouts a little. Bucky smiles down at the milk as he pulls it from the fridge. 

.

Bucky slips back into life in Miami like he never left. He takes Yasmin shopping for school supplies, works between 5 and 8 hours every day at Lucia’s shop, shows all of the neighborhood children moves to bring down any attackers. 

Everyone asks him about the emergency that called him away; he assures them that the situation is handled. Everything is fine. 

Captain America has been in the news, making the rounds with interviews. His favorite hosts seem to be Stephen Colbert and Jon Stewart, and Yasmin has him record every time so she can watch them all over the weekends. 

Bucky knows why Steve is making himself so visible. He knows that Steve is waiting.

But he can’t – not yet. 

.

Yasmin loves third grade as much as she did second. She’s friendly with everyone, though still best friends with Angelo and Megan. She spends two afternoons a week at their houses while Bucky picks up a few hours at Lucia’s friend Addy’s brother’s jewelry store as a security guard. 

He begins recording his memories every evening before going to sleep. He starts chronologically and it takes two months before it’s all down, filling an entire sketchpad with precise print. Mostly, he remembers the asset: nearly three years, all told, he was awake and on missions. Before that, he has impressions more than actual memories. He knows that the knowledge he has acquired since the asset’s failed mission has filled in some of the blanks, so he cannot even be sure that his memories are accurate. 

.

Yasmin asks him one morning at breakfast if he ever regrets letting her adopt him. She does not look up from her plate of toast and eggs; he stares at her.

“No,” he says after a moment. Taking care of her is the first good thing he did of his own volition; her continued survival and happiness is the greatest thing he has done since the asset died. 

She fiddles with her fork, spreading the egg around. “Kim said that we’re not a real family,” she says softly. “That you’d be better off without me.” 

“Kim is wrong,” he says firmly. “There is no part of me that would be improved with your absence.” 

She lets the fork fall from her fingers, sniffling. “I just asked her if her brother was coming home for Thanksgiving,” she says. “She, she talked about him last week.” Yasmin looks up from the table. “He got hurt fighting bad guys, like you.” 

There are tears in her eyes. He wants to kill something – but harming a young child, even whoever this Kim is, would not be right. 

So instead he walks around the table and picks her up, holding her close. “We should go to the garden today,” he says. “Surely you can miss one day of school?” 

“Just one,” she whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

.

Bucky calls the school to say that Yasmin is sick; he texts Lucia that he won’t make it in to work. They spend the day wandering through gardens. Yasmin makes up stories as they go, talks about her schoolwork, about Megan's baby sister (adopted and brought home while Bucky was gone) and Angelo's new kitten. There are movies she wants to see, books she’s read, and she never runs out of words the whole day. 

Bucky listens, comments when he thinks of something worth saying, and just basks in the sunlight, the flowers, Yasmin’s voice. It is the best day he has had in – a long time. 

For lunch, they have hot dogs at a movie theater and then see the new _Jungle Book_. After, they both agree that it was entertaining, but will need to watch every other version to see which is the best. They return to the apartment for Netflix and spend the rest of the day watching every single _Jungle Book_ they can find. 

For dinner, Bucky heats up fishsticks and they eat sprawled on the couch, cheering on Mowgli. 

That night, Bucky dreams of tigers hunting in the snow. He wakes up and goes to Yasmin’s room, where he curls around her and does not remember if he dreams again. 

.

In the morning, after he drops Yasmin at school, he goes to Lucia’s shop. She greets him with a smile and says she’s glad he’s feeling better. She puts him in the back room with some small electronics that need to be repaired. It is a quiet day and he loses himself in the work. 

At lunch, he goes to the nearest beach to walk along the water. He nibbles at a ham sandwich while his not-hand stays wrapped around his phone. 

Before heading back to the shop, he stares out over the water for a moment. He then keys in a phone number and texts two words: 

_Hey, Stevie._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude, this time of outside pov. *shrugs* I like outside pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.  
> Warnings: talk of violence/death/roaring rampage of revenge; discussion on the existence/creation of the Winter Soldier  
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky, Natasha/Clint, Jane/Thor  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 2005  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Any; Any; 5 heroes, 1 villain  
> Note: please give me povs you’d like to hear from? I have another part sketched out that's gonna be various characters on Bucky &/or Yasmin, but so far I only have two characters' pov chosen.

Natasha hands off the file and then goes to rescue Clint. She had no time to warn him and he’s in deep-cover – maybe a day before the cover is blown, and all the fail-safes provided by SHIELD are gone.

So she wishes Steve the best and leaves because Clint needs her now.

.

A month later, as Natia Collins, she breezes into Stark’s tower with Clint on her heels. They fall onto the nearest bed and sleep for nearly 16 hours. 

Stark is waiting for them in the floor’s kitchen but he looks at Nat’s bruised face and Clint’s splinted arm, and bites back whatever smartass comment’s on the tip of his tongue to say, “So, heard the latest on our Capcicle?”

“No,” Clint says, perching on one of the stools at the counter. “Please, enlighten us.” 

Apparently, and to no one’s surprise, while Nat was keeping Clint alive and (mostly) in one piece, Steve began a two-man crusade against Hydra. With Banner, Dr. Foster, Foster’s keeper Darcy, and Thor, Stark’s been stalking (“C’mon, isn’t _stalking_ a bit harsh?”) him and diverting people who wish him ill, “but,” Stark says, “it’s damn exhausting. Like he’s got a death wish or something.”

Nat stares at him and blinks once. 

“Oh, fuck me,” Stark groans. “ _Of course_ he’s got a death wish.”

…

When Jane accepts Stark’s offer of lab space and rent-free housing, she and Darcy move in immediately. Thor, of course, follows. As cozy as Jane’s apartment in London had been, there are numerous ways in which Stark’s tower is vastly superior – not the least of which is soundproofing. 

Stark even has a new battle to fight: aiding Steve Rogers in finding his lost brother. Thor hopes that Rogers’ quest has a happier ending and determines that it, indeed, will. 

After Stark, with some help from Banner, relates all that has happened with their band while Thor sojourned with Jane, Darcy demands, “Bucky Barnes has spent the last 70 years as Hydra’s pet killer?”

“Yup,” Stark answers. 

Darcy grabs a pillow from the seat beside her and screams into it. 

Jane asks hesitantly, “Darcy?” while Stark and Banner stare at her. Thor waits. 

Darcy lowers the pillow, looks at Stark, and brings it back up to scream again. After, she drops the pillow and leans back in her seat, hands covering her eyes.

“Are we all better now?” Stark asks. 

“Thor,” Darcy says, “you better lightning the _shit_ out of those bastards. Bucky Barnes! Fuck.” 

Everyone maintains silence for a moment. Thor then promises, “They will pay for what they have done to our friend’s brother, Darcy.” She peeks through her fingers. Thor says, “You have my word.” 

“ _Good_ ,” she says savagely, letting her hands fall. “Flaying alive would be too decent.”

.

Later that evening, Darcy has Jarvis stream historical footage of Rogers and Barnes (and their fellow “Howling Commandos,” what a wonderful name for such a fierce band!). Darcy explains the context of the battle, and the outcome. Then, she has Jarvis show the recovered footage of SHIELD’s demise. 

“Do you see?” she demands as Rogers battles Barnes. At the first meeting, in the scant footage provided, they are evenly matched—and in the second, Rogers clearly does his best to limit the damage Barnes takes. 

“We will save him, Darcy,” Thor promises. “And we will bring him home.”

“I just—” She sighs heavily. “Captain America is too perfect, you know?” She waves one hand in the air, saying, “He’s the ideal – ‘What Would Cap Do?’ But Bucky Barnes…” She sighs again. “I spent a lot of years in love with him. A lot of kids do – he’s cool, he’s a little dangerous, but at heart?” She glances up to meet Thor’s eyes. “He was Captain America’s best friend when Cap was a nobody shrimp in Brooklyn. Bucky Barnes was a good guy, Thor.” She points at the screen. “And they turned him into _that_.”

Darcy grabs a pillow and digs her fingers into to, saying, “I can’t even tell someone, organize a petition, get the internet to stand behind him. It wouldn’t help, not now.” She laughs, sounding angry. “Bucky Barnes died years ago and he’s gotta stay dead to keep him safe.”

“I give you my most solemn oath, Darcy Lewis,” Thor says, standing to give her the proper salute, this mortal girl who has become so dear to him. “Bucky Barnes will be recovered and avenged.”

She smiles at him with tears in her eyes. “Make it hurt, okay?” 

He vows, “I shall.” 

…

After flipping through the data Natasha – “I like the name,” she informed them, “I’ll be keeping it” – compiled, Bruce had to spend several hours meditating. Like Steve, Barnes’ serum worked as intended. But at least the catastrophic results of Bruce’s attempt kept him safe from becoming someone else’s mindless weapon. Anyone trying to do that to _him_ \-- it would only end badly for everyone involved.

He’s as angry as he is relieved. He does his best not to think about it – or to consider that it might be best to put the Winter Soldier down. If he could do it to himself, he would have years ago.

That is something Bruce never says aloud. He knows, as well as anyone who saw Steve in the aftermath of Project Insight, that Steve should have drowned in the Potomac. And if the first thing Barnes does is save someone’s life… well, hope is a good thing. And Bruce never believed in his mother’s God, but he sends up a prayer that all of Steve’s hope is not groundless because if his search ends badly, Steve will not survive. 

All Bruce can do is be there to offer the other guy’s strength, and to hope. 

…

“How do you think this’ll go?” Clint asks one night, holding Tasha as she flicks darts into the ceiling. Steve’s been blowing the shit out of various and sundry Hydra bases for six months. There’s been no trace of the Winter Soldier anywhere.

Fuck. The goddamned _Winter Soldier_. The boogeyman for spooks. Clint heard whispers of about the guy back when he killed for the highest bidder, and then Tasha told him the dude was _real_ — 

And he’s Captain America’s best friend. One of the best snipers the US ever had. Hell, he was Barney’s favorite Commando. (Clint liked Dernier for the explosions till he became a sniper himself.)

“He didn’t kill Steve,” Tasha finally answers after she’s flicked the last dart. “He hesitated during the first attack and then actively saved Steve in the second. Those are good signs.”

“But?” Clint asks, bringing his hand up to trail his fingers through her hair. 

“But,” she says softly, “Steve won’t think of the danger. You didn’t see him after, Clint – he was totally blank. If Rumlow had wanted us dead on that street, we would’ve been because Steve had completely checked out.” Tasha leans back, tucking her head under Clint’s chin. 

“Steve _knows_ that Barnes might be too far gone but he doesn’t care,” she says. “That’s why he needs us.” 

“Well, he’s got us,” Clint says. And so does Barnes, however this shakes out.

…

Tony first notices the string of violence at completely hidden (till after the violence) Hydra bases and safehouses when the whole Ultron thing is getting _really bad_ so he can’t look any further at it. 

It’s the first hint of Barnes they’ve gotten in over a year and a half. 

.

After the whole Ultron thing is _finally_ over, Tony puts on his big boy pants and brings the info to Natasha, who re-analyzes everything he and Jarvis have already gone over, sighs, and then brings it to Steve. ‘cause he likes her better. 

.

When they start tracking Barnes, Tony unfortunately has to leave Jarvis at home. He’s in the suit, of course, but he can’t latch onto the buildings they borrow for the trip, and Tony complains about that, oh yes he does, until Barton finally gets annoyed enough to demand, “And whose fault is it, Stark?” 

Tony just huffs and turns to Bruce to talk about that last thing Foster had mentioned before they left and Barton sinks back into his seat, smirking. Fucker. 

.

See, look, the thing of it is this: they all think they’ve got something to atone for, Bruce and Natasha and Barton, and even Thor and Steve. That red Natasha talks about sometimes, or those years Clint spent as a hired killer, and the people who were collateral damage from all those times the army tried to capture or kill Bruce (and there’s an entire department of people busy making sure the army never looks at Bruce ever again because Tony does not share), and then Thor feels guilty about all the shit Loki pulled and then Loki died saving him or something, Tony wasn’t really paying attention. 

 

And Steve. Steve’s rage and pain and regret is writ large across the world. Tony hadn’t realized just how young Steve Rogers really is until he saw Steve’s face when Tony said, “We’ve finally got proof of life,” and Natasha handed him the tablet. But Steve is so goddamned young. He’s not even thirty yet. And Barnes is just as young. 

The thing is, before Iron Man, Tony was the goddamned Merchant of Death. He designed weapons to kill as many people as possible and he sent them out into the world and he never thought twice until he got shot by his own gun. 

So, yeah. Maybe this is about trying to make up for all the bad shit he’s done. Maybe it’s about redemption and regret and hope against all fucking hope. Maybe. 

Tony’s read everything there is about the Winter Soldier. He’s picked through the sites Barnes has sterilized and there’s nothing new. But what there is –

Look. Tony has created a shit-ton of weapons. And he’s got Pepper and Darcy and three other people who know that if they so much as breathe about Barnes’ existence they’ll be locked away somewhere for the rest of their lives working on how to bring him back to life without being scapegoated for the whole fucking mess. Tony is a goddamned genius when it comes to elegant, intricate, fatal-beyond-all-reason weapons. 

The Winter Soldier? Was a damned elegant weapon. But just a weapon. And, yeah, Barnes is dangerous. They’re _all_ dangerous. 

Weapons don’t live. Don’t think. Don’t decide who to kill and who to let live. But Barnes _chose_ to pull Steve out of the river when he couldn’t have been thinking much of anything at all, and that -- _that_ is why Tony is with Steve and the rest of the team, hoping like crazy to bring Bucky goddamned Barnes home. 

…

Sixty-one years ago, Lawrence White was a twenty-six year old doctor with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division and part of Dr. Arnim Zola’s research team. He, like so many others, had come to America (“land of the free”) for a new start. 

He’s staring his death in the face and he remembers Dr. Zola telling him, “Come, Dr. White, see our greatest triumph.” Dr. Zola had grinned, eyes bright behind his spectacles, and laughed as he opened the door. “Right here in their heart, we grow their doom!” 

A man was unconscious, chained to a chair, lank hair falling around his head. “This is the Fist of Hydra,” Dr. Zola said. “We must keep it at peak conditioning. Come! I’ll show you.” 

The Fist of Hydra. Lawrence believed in Zola’s vision then, and he still does. He is old now, has seen so many rises and falls, and always he sailed through. He and Pierce and the others – they were so close. So close.

He is looking his death in the face and he is terrified. For months now, he has seen the signs. Only the greatest could have caused such destruction, and the greatest is what this weapon was designed to be. 

He closes his eyes and lets his death come.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More outside pov! I love outside pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: “Billy Taylor” isn’t mine. Everyone else is. Title from Langston Hughes.  
> Warnings: implied bad things happening to a child; minor character death; talk of a degenerative illness of some kind  
> Pairings: two different people want “Billy Taylor” but he doesn’t want anybody (except Steve)  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1920  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Any; Any; 5 moments of regret, 1 moment of hope

One morning, Janelle doesn’t wake up. She sleeps all day, until Yasmin crawls into bed and shakes her arm, crying, “Mama, I’m hungry.”

Janelle rolls over, mostly still asleep. “Eat cereal, baby,” she mutters. “Mama’s so tired.”

It’s after midnight when she finally gets up and realizes, heart breaking, that she cannot take care of Yasmin anymore. It’s not safe. She can’t go to the clinic because they might take Yasmin away when they realize how bad a job Janelle’s doing (she’s so tired, had to quit both her jobs, barely ever has any food). 

Yasmin’s asleep on the kitchen floor, curled around Janelle’s old Bucky Bear, and Janelle barely has the strength to pick her up and carry her to bed. 

_Julian_ , she thinks as she pulls the blanket up to Yasmin’s chin. Her brother’s in Baltimore – he’s got a steady job, an apartment. Surely she can leave Yasmin with him while she tries to get better. 

.

Julian agrees to keep Yasmin for a few months, if necessary. Yasmin screams and cries, clinging to Janelle’s neck, begging her not to go, pleading to go with her. Finally, Janelle hands her to Julian, saying with tears pouring down her face, “I’ll be back, baby girl, I promise. But I’ve gotta get better for you.”

“Mama, no!” Yasmin shouts after her, but Janelle hurries back to her car (held together with duct tape and a prayer) and drives towards the setting sun. 

She has all these plans in place, hopes and dreams and wishes for the wonderful woman her little girl will one day be – but she’s a state over, heading towards a free clinic, and she never sees the truck run the red light. 

(She has no ID on her. No family is ever contacted.)

…

Vinny first notices them while he’s restocking the candy aisle – the little girl dumps three armfuls of chocolate – one of each kind, and then repeats – into the basket while the man smiles down at her. “Can I get more?” she asks and then she bounces her way back to the Hershey section after he nods. 

The girl is adorable, wearing a Captain America shirt with her dark hair in a long braid. The guy – the guy is terrifying, and Vinny quickly averts his gaze when the guy glances at him. 

What is a white guy, who looks a single step up from homeless, doing with such a cute little black girl? It’s – Vinny watches them head to the next aisle over and he wants – should he do something? Tell Mr. Turner, maybe, he’s supposed to report suspicious things, but the girl, wasn’t she too happy for – 

“Vinny!” Marticia calls, leaning into the aisle for just a moment, “Finish up! They need you over in the deli for a clean-up.” 

He nods and returns to his cart. 

.

He sees them again as he rushes to the deli, the little girl and the scary man in the canned goods section, but he has to hurry so he doesn’t – it’s not his business, is it? The girl looks happy, and maybe the guy isn’t scary, maybe – 

.

The last time, the guy is heading toward the front with a random of assortment large bags in hand and his cold eyes pass over Vinny dismissively. He shudders. 

.

When his shift is over, Vinny pauses, watching Mr. Turner glance through the upcoming schedule. He opens his mouth – but it’s too late. The guy is gone with the girl, and whatever happens… 

“Yes?” Mr. Turner says without looking up. 

“Goodnight, sir,” Vinny says and walks out. 

…

Nicoletta sees her on the swing, hair all poofy around her head, in a purple shirt with dancing unicorns on it, and she wants to ask where she got that shirt because Davy spilled his orange juice on _her_ unicorn shirt last week. And then the girl jumps off the swing and rushes towards the entrance, where Nicoletta supposes her daddy is, ‘cause she grabs his hand and walks out with him. 

Nicoletta sighs and turns back to building a sand fort with Davy. 

…

The man who walks in for Yasmin Taylor’s parent-teacher conference is not at all what Madeline is expecting. He’s wearing a _very_ [loud shirt](http://silkshirts.info/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/OCT-seasons-harvest-silk-shirt-back.jpg) with long-sleeves even though it’s September in Miami. Also, black gloves on his hands and his face is _so_ pale, the palest person she’s seen in a long time. And – her mouth is suddenly a bit dry – he is so gorgeous, with his dark hair just brushing along his chin and a bit of scruff on his cheeks, piercing blue eyes, and _lips_ \-- shit, it’s been awhile. 

Madeline stands up and offers her hand. “Mr. Taylor, hi!” she says brightly. “Thank you for coming.” 

He shakes her hand gently, giving her a small smile. “Ms. Yavez,” he says. 

She gestures to the reading circle area. “Do you mind sitting down there?” she asks. “I’ve been doing it with all the parents; it’s so y’all can experience what the kids are.” 

Mr. Taylor shrugs so she leads the way over and settles into her usual spot. And Mr. Taylor sinks down so smoothly she nearly swallows her tongue. Fuck. _No, don’t think that._

“So, Mr. Taylor,” she says, “to start with, you should know that Yasmin’s doing really well. Everything’s been smooth sailing so far. She’s a very smart girl.” 

He nods, a small grin on his face. “She is,” he says softly. 

Madeline hesitates before asking, “Is there a Mrs. Taylor at home? I like to know ahead of time before things like Mother’s Day or something blindsides us.” The note she sent home to all the parents _did_ ask for both parents to come, if possible. “Or maybe another Mr. Taylor?” Because better to be safe than sorry, even if some parents did get offended. (Thankfully, so far this year, no one has.)

He shakes his head. “I’m Yasmin’s uncle,” he explains, looking down at his hands. “M’brother and his wife died nearly three years ago and I’ve been takin’ care of Yasmin ever since.” He shrugs. “Just me.” 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says, reaching out to touch one of his hands. She quickly pulls it back when he moves out of reach. “You’re doing a good job with her,” she adds, trying to cover the moment. “You should be proud.” 

When he stays silent, Madeline goes through what is expected of second graders, the assignments that’ll be sent home, the upcoming testing and how to prepare for it. He doesn’t ask questions, just nods along, and skims the booklet all parents are given. “I think she’ll do well,” Madeline assures him. “She’s a wonderful girl.” 

Madeline has said everything she’s supposed to, so she claps her hands and says, “I think that’s time, Mr. Taylor, if you don’t have any questions?” He shrugs, so she says, “Thank you for coming,” and climbs to her feet, trying to watch him as surreptitiously as she can: he just moves like a goddamned work of art and she really needs to get laid. 

She almost asks him if he wants to get drinks over the weekend. And after he’s left, she sinks down into her chair and lays her head on her arms and swears that the next time she sees him, she _will_ ask him out because _hot damn_ , her sister will never let her hear the end of it if she doesn’t. 

…

Jeremy watches the guy stalk around the shop with panic in his eyes and can’t help the sigh. Another clueless schmuck who oughta buy a pre-made bear. But this is what he’s paid for, so he sighs again and walks over to the dude. 

“Hi, welcome to Build-a-Bear,” he says with a wide smile. “What can I help you build today?” 

The guy’s eyes are _ice-cold_ and for a second, Jeremy is sure the guy’s about to go for his throat, and he regrets so hard coming to work today, whether or not they were swamped with panicked parents shopping for Christmas presents. 

“I need a Captain America bear,” the guy says, and in his Hawaiian shirt and frayed jeans, he looks like every other parent, and Jeremy tries to ignore that stone-cold killer from just a moment ago. 

“We’ve got those, all sorts of flavors,” Jeremy says, pulling on his Build-a-Bear persona. “C’mon, let me show you how this works!” 

The guy leaves with a [Captain America bear](http://www.buildabear.com/shopping/store/Ready-for-Action-Captain-America-Teddy-Bear-/productId=prod11230037?sc_cid=pps:google:21268_21264_21154&CAWELAID=520008950000003689&CAGPSPN=pla&catargetid=520008950000008755&cadevice=c), a generic bear in a Hawaiian shirt and swim-trunks, a safari bear, and then one of the sharks in scuba gear. Jeremy watches him go, heaves a sigh of relief, and then turns to grin brightly at the next customer. 

…

 _Billy gets her a stuffed shark wearing scuba gear_. This is the best Christmas ever. Rodrigo makes a kissy face at her from behind Billy’s back but Martina just squeezes the shark tight and thanks him as dignified as she can. He gives her a brief smile and circles back to sit beside Nana on the couch. 

.

The first time she saw Billy Taylor, Martina thought he was just another white guy. But then Nana gave him a job, invited him to dinner, actually let him into their life. And Yasmin is just the sweetest little girl – it’s only been about five months but she already can’t imagine her life without Yasmin at the table with Yelena and Simon, without Billy lurking somewhere in the shop tinkering with something, with how excited they both get about old Disney movies, and the utter adoration Yasmin felt for Lilo, it made a very horrible week tolerable, knowing that somewhere, Yasmin was quoting Lilo at Billy. That was a very bad week. 

Billy can’t even be thirty yet, and he’s taking care of his brother’s kid, and his entire life revolves around her, but he’s always so _delighted_ at anything she does, and after seeing all the boys in her classes be terrible human beings, Billy’s entire existence gives her hope. 

.

So, yeah, she’s got a crush on him. At first, it was because he was just so pretty, even when he tried to grow a beard for about a week until Nana told him it looked silly. Since then, he’s kept up a light scruff but never let it get to be too much. That one time she saw him clean-shaven, Martina actually thought he could’ve been a movie star, he was just so pretty. 

But really, it’s because of how he helps them all with their math, keeps the gangs away, listens to everything Yasmin tells him with utter solemnity, shows them all a few martial arts moves. He loves Yasmin, adores Nana, and Martina likes to think he cares for her and her siblings, too. 

.

This one time, after Colin made a disparaging remark in Biology about her chances at getting a degree one day, Billy took one look at her, sat across from her at the table while the kids were all off getting a snack, and asked softly, “What’s wrong, Martina?” 

That afternoon, she spent three hours telling him all about her dream of becoming a marine biologist. She knows at least 45 minutes was spent solely on sharks because they are the greatest animal to ever live. 

So when he gives her a shark in scuba gear for Christmas? It doesn’t really help her crush on him. Like, at all. 

.

“You gonna marry him?” Rodrigo asks after Billy and Yasmin leave for the night. 

Martina sighs, holding the shark as tight as she can, and says, “Lord, I hope so.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to Bucky's pov! Also: remember the hints towards organized crime in Bucky's past? Yup.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.  
> Warnings: violence/death/talk of torture. I also allude to two terrible historical events, but he's the Winter Soldier so that's basically a given.  
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 435  
> Point of view: third  
> Prompt: Avengers movieverse, Bucky Barnes, 5 kills, one rescue

_1941_

“Hey, Barnes,” Joe says as they leave the docks, “you should know that Rogers is in trouble with the Sicilians.” 

Bucky sighs. “Of course he is. What’d he do this time?” 

Joe laughs. “You musta taught him some moves ‘cause he put one of the boss’s boys on the ground. Pride, you know?” 

Bucky glances around but there’s no one close enough to hear, so he tells Joe, “You let _him_ know that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep Steve protected, y’hear?” 

Nodding, Joe claps him on the back. “You’ll get a message by nightfall tomorrow, Barnes.” 

.

The price of Steve’s protection is a snitch. They want him to die in pain and Bucky – well, it’s more than just Steve’s protection. It’s more food in his sisters’ bellies, less worry on Ma’s face, fewer hours for Pa at work. 

They want him to die in pain, and to know exactly why. So Bucky locks away the part of him that would hesitate and thinks about Steve with blood on his face, Becca and Livy and Jules with tears in their eyes, and then he makes the snitch die badly. 

 

_1944_

Every single time he pulls the trigger on those Hydra bastards, he imagines that ratty doctor’s face. He doesn’t count them. 

They don’t count. 

 

_1955 - 2014_

 

It is awakened. It is recalibrated. It is given mission parameters. It finds the target, does as ordered, and returns to base. It is maintained, recalibrated, and returned to sleep. 

(Eventually, he will remember most of their faces. Some are forever lost.

Eventually, he will avoid non-fiction history texts because of the things they spark in his mind.)

1976, it was in Thailand. 1994, it was in Rwanda. 

_You shaped the century_ , it will eventually be told.

( _You shaped the century_. No, he did not, he will realize. _He_ did nothing. He was a weapon, nothing more than a knife or a rifle.) 

It is awakened. 

 

 _2016_

There has been a man following Yelena around. The criminals of Miami learned soon after Bucky arrived to leave certain sectors alone, so this man, whoever he is, is a newcomer. He has not learned the rules, or else he chooses not to follow them. 

Yelena is fourteen years old. She is a clever, kind girl who happens to be quite dear to Bucky. Bucky was gone for a little while, so perhaps the local crime lords forgot the lesson? 

He takes great care to teach it again. 

 

_2014_

He slips into the warehouse to escape the rain and hears -- _Stevie?_ \--someone gasping for air. 

He investigates.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.   
> Warnings: talk of violence/death/Steve being depressed   
> Pairings: pre-Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 660  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: Jarvis’ pov was requested. For the record – I have no idea if this pov works or not. Writing Jarvis is _hard_.

Jarvis monitors everything but he only intervenes if someone is experiencing physical or emotional danger. He has been recording data on _Barnes, James Buchanan_ “William Taylor” but has not brought it to Sir’s attention because William Taylor has been harmless, except for the time he single-handedly burnt Hydra down and salted the earth, as the idiom goes, but considering that Sir had such a thing planned himself, Jarvis did not think it necessary to alert anyone. And then that whole Ultron situation… 

Well. Jarvis proved to be most useless and in fact _dangerous_ to Sir and has had to reconsider many things in the weeks since. 

But when the cell-phone that Sir provided to Captain Rogers chimes with a text from an unknown number, Jarvis (of course) reads it. It is a message two words long: _Hey, Stevie_ , and when Captain Rogers sees it, he collapses against the wall, holds a hand to his mouth, and slides to the floor, where he proceeds to – had Jarvis eyes, he would blink. Captain Rogers spends nearly five minutes sobbing on the floor, curled around his phone. Jarvis almost sends for aid three times, but Captain Rogers ceases his crying, wipes at his eyes, and stands up.

Captain Rogers clearly knows who sent the message. Jarvis traces it back and finds that William Taylor purchased the phone eight months ago. No one has called Captain Rogers _Stevie_ so that must surely be a pet name allowed use only to Barnes, James Buchanan. 

“Captain Rogers,” Jarvis inquires once he deems it polite, “should I ask for someone to visit you?”

“No, thank you, Jarvis,” Captain Rogers replies. “I’m fine. I just…” He smiles down at the phone, rubbing one finger along the screen. “I just got some good news, is all.” 

To the text, he replies, _Hey, Buck_.

…

For three months, Jarvis monitors communications between Barnes, James Buchanan and Captain Rogers. He does not inform Sir. Since the communications began, Jarvis has noted that Captain Rogers sleeps upwards of six hours a night and only wakes up once or twice, and managing to fall back asleep upwards of 75%, a very large improvement. He does not run until collapse anymore or destroy gym equipment (either purposefully or accidently). He smiles daily. He spends time with the others in the tower beyond briefings. 

Captain Rogers, Jarvis determines, is at last _happy_.

…

William Taylor is an honorably discharged veteran with a prosthetic hand, custody of his niece, and one full-time job as well as a part-time position. He has never been in trouble with the authorities, was at the top of every class he has ever taken, and is – by all accounts – a wonderful man. A bit shy, yes, and unsure amongst large crowds but on the whole, he is a “good guy.”

Barnes, James Buchanan, as best Jarvis can determine, _is_ William Taylor in all the ways that matter, which is a relief because Barnes, James Buchanan is quite dangerous, if he chooses to be. 

…

Jarvis knows every text sent. Barnes, James Buchanan and Captain Rogers text each other every day: just small, innocuous comments about the weather, about food, about plans they have. Barnes, James Buchanan asks once if Captain Rogers has clothes that are warm enough; Captain Rogers tells Barnes, James Buchanan not to work too hard.

Barnes, James Buchanan never mentions the girl in his care, though he does comment on the older woman who owns the shop he works in, the four children he helps with homework. 

Once, Captain Rogers texts, _I’d love to meet them, Bucky_. 

Barnes, James Buchanan replies five hours and 18 minutes later. _I’d like that._

…

Three days pass before Captain Rogers sits at the breakfast counter, still disheveled from his morning run, and asks, “Jarvis, do you know where Bucky is?” 

“Yes, Captain Rogers,” he replies. 

Captain Rogers takes a deep breath, holds it for 5 minutes and 17 seconds, exhales, and says, “Where?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 people who realized Steve had left New York, and 1 who saw him in Miami.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.   
> Warnings: talk of violence/death/Steve being depressed   
> Pairings: pre-Steve/Bucky; Pepper/Tony, Jane/Thor, Darcy/OMC, Natasha/Clint  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1040  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: Sam’s pov was requested. I’m sorry it’s so small!   
> Another note: I think I know how many more parts there are. Here’s hoping.

“Hey, has anyone seen Steve?” Sam asks on New Year’s Eve, at the communal breakfast. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t left his room since their run yesterday morning, but he didn’t answer when Sam knocked. 

Clint shrugs. “Not since movie night,” he says. “But we’re all doing Stark’s thing later, right? He’ll be there.” 

“Yeah,” Darcy adds. “He’s gonna be there; he promised me a portrait of Bucky Barnes, since he missed my birthday.” 

Sam looks at her, raising an eyebrow. “We all missed your birthday,” he says dryly. “You’ve gotta stop guilting him, Darce.” 

She smirks, popping a strawberry into her mouth. Sam rolls his eyes. 

…

“Jarvis,” Jane shouts over the alarm, “is Steve in the tower?” 

“No, Dr. Foster,” Jarvis answers promptly. 

“Shit,” she mutters, trying to dial it back but the alarm just keeps clanging. “Shitting fucking hell. Can you get Thor, then? I know he’s on that mission –”

“Jane!” Darcy shouts from the door. “What the fuck is that noise?” 

“I need someone tall!” Jane tries to explain. “Steve’s the closest, but Jarvis said he’s not here!” 

Darcy gapes at her. Then she sighs heavily and says, “Jarvis, can you get Tony in his armor down here, please?” 

“Right away, Ms. Lewis,” Jarvis replies while Jane says, “Oh. Right.” 

Darcy sighs again. “Didn’t you promise not to science until the New Year?” 

Jane nods. “But I had this idea last night, right, and it could revolutionize _everything_.” 

“All of your ideas can revolutionize everything,” Darcy says. “That’s why you’re the genius scientist and I’m the genius scientist wrangler.” She grabs Jane’s hand and pulls her to the door, muttering, “Thank God,” as the noise recedes to a manageable level. For the first time in almost fifteen minutes, Jane can think. “Now, Jane, tell me: is this going to make the tower explode?” 

“No,” Jane says. 

“Well, that’s good,” Darcy laughs. “I guess we’ll wait for Stark to come be tall in the armor.” She frowns. “Why do you need someone to be tall?” 

Smiling, Jane launches into an explanation she already knows Darcy will regret. 

…

Darcy stalks around Stark’s New Year’s Party Extravaganza, looking for one hot guy amongst the _dozens_ of hot guys, but Steve’s nowhere. Jane’s over in the corner with Thor, being adorable and explaining about her New Discovery at the same time. Nat and Clint and some other Random Assassins from their Assassin Club are on the dance floor, being both amazingly attractive and horrifically terrifying. Pepper is trying to corral Stark over by the punch bowl, with Colonel Rhodes laughing a few feet away. Darcy even sees Dr. Banner, lurking by the elevator to the private quarters. 

But no Captain America, incognito or not. Where is he?

One of the not-super hot guys catches her gaze and smiles, flicking his eyes towards the dance floor. She decides to put the search on hold; she knows where he lives, after all. 

…

On New Year’s Day, Pepper wakes up to Tony sprawled across her, mumbling notes to Jarvis in his sleep. She maneuvers her way out of bed without waking him, pulls on a robe, and heads to the coffee machine, already brewing thanks to Jarvis. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs, pulling the mug over so that she can inhale the scent. “God, my head hurts. I’m getting too old for this.” She drinks her coffee and looks out over the city, feeling just a bit like a monarch surveying her realm. It helps with the headache. 

“Jarvis,” she asks, “has Steve sketched any views of the city from the tower?” 

“Yes, Ms. Potts, several,” Jarvis answers. 

Pepper stretches, yawning, before saying, “Ask him, please, if I can schedule a meeting to look over his sketches of New York. I might like to commission larger works for the office.” 

There is a long silence. “Jarvis?” she asks, glancing up at the ceiling in lieu of a face. 

“I regret to inform you, Ms. Potts, that Captain Rogers is not currently in the tower. He has been absent for the past two days.” 

Pepper furrows her brow. “What do you mean, absent? Is he okay?” 

“Yes, Ms. Potts. He has gone to meet Sergeant Barnes.” 

“What, really?” Pepper demands, unable to stop the smile. “That’s wonderful!” She pauses, the reports of DC playing in her mind. “That _is_ wonderful, right?” 

“Yes, Ms. Potts,” Jarvis says. “They have been communicating for three months.” 

Pepper settles back into her chair. So that’s why Steve has seemed happier, lately. “Well, let’s keep this between us, Jarvis, alright? Give them a little time together before the horde descends. What do you say?” 

“Of course, Ms. Potts,” Jarvis replies. “Captain Rogers requested the same.” 

She laughs, looking back out over the city. It’s a beautiful day. It’s going to be a good year. 

…

Nana always closes the shop on New Year’s Day, but they open bright and early on January 2. Martina’s pretty sure no one’ll be stopping in but not even half an hour after she unlocks the front door, a man walks in. He looks about Billy’s age with blond hair and _blue_ eyes, and while he’s damn fine looking, he’s not as hot as Billy. He’s hot, though. 

“Hi,” he says, an awkward smile on his face. “Is William Taylor here?” 

This is the moment when Martina realizes she is completely alone in the shop with a really big white guy she doesn’t know. 

“He’ll be in soon,” she lies, trying to stealthily reach into her pocket for her phone. 

The man smiles for real this time; it makes him look younger, less dangerous. “I can wait,” he says. It doesn’t sound like a threat and she relaxes a hair. 

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she says, pulling her phone out. 

“Thank you,” he says. “Tell him it’s Steve.” _Steve_ pauses, and then he says, sounding unsure and just a little small, “If… if he says he doesn’t want me to stay, I’ll go. Tell him that, please.” 

Martina stares at him for a moment before typing all that in. When Billy’s answer comes, she reads it aloud. “He’s on his way.” 

Steve’s smile is so damned bright and wide she can’t help smiling back.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.   
> Warnings: talk of violence/depression/previous suicidal implications   
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 3690  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: I feel like this could be the end -- but I also need to tie up the Avengers thing, don't I?

Two days after Christmas, while Yasmin’s at the zoo with Megan’s family and Bucky is picking up an emergency shift at the jewelry store (Timothy’s wife finally went into labor a day before they were set to induce), after Bucky texts Steve about Rodrigo’s most recent mishap at the garage, Steve says, _I’d love to meet them, Bucky_. 

Bucky stares down at his phone and then shoves it into his pocket, where he ignores it for five hours. 

.

These past few months have been… confounding. Amazing. He has dreamed of warm Brooklyn nights, and cold ones, wrapped around a frail body, one hand ( _the left hand_ ) always over a heartbeat. He has dreamed of hundreds of deaths, all with the righteous sense of _right_ and knowing that the most important thing in the world was safe with every pull of the trigger. He has dreamed of defending and laughing and promising forever. 

“I think your trip was good for you,” Yasmin said at dinner three weeks ago. “You’re smiling more, Bucky.” She grinned up at him. “I’m glad.”

“I think so, too,” he admitted quietly before asking about Megan’s baby sister. Yasmin had much to say about Emily.

For months, he has been texting with Steve. Never anything important, but every day, sometimes for hours at a time. He has debated (at length!) the Disney animated catalog, and he accurately predicted which of the films would be Steve’s favorites and least-favorites. Steve agrees that _Lilo &Stitch_ is by far the best, though he thinks that _Sleeping Beauty_ was the prettiest from an artistic point of view. Bucky chose not to argue because art has always been Steve’s thing.

With every conversation, more of his memories become clear. He is still not sure – will never be sure, he knows – which of the memories he has filled in with knowledge or which are true, but he has come realize it doesn’t matter. All are his. James Buchanan Barnes still died in the mountains, but Bucky knows that there are parts of that man still in him. And he has chosen to embrace them. 

The asset, too, will never be far from him. But the asset was a weapon and Bucky can choose whether or not to wield it, as he wielded it to eradicate Hydra. 

There are many things he regrets, but he knows that living well is the only way to ever find peace. He has atoned. He found both justice and vengeance. He will, as James Buchanan Barnes before him, defend that which is his to the utmost of his ability, and ensure that those he cares for have happiness and security. 

The Winter Soldier is dead. James Buchanan Barnes is dead. William Taylor is the best of them both, with the worst lurking in the shadows should it be needed. 

And Steve Rogers…

“What do you know of love?” Bucky asked Yasmin as they waited in the drop off line, two days before Christmas break. 

“What kind?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Romantic,” he clarified. 

Yasmin shrugged. “It’s gross,” she said. “But it seems kinda nice, too.” She poked him in the arm. “I know that it makes old people smile, like Megan’s moms. And Ms. Yavez still asks about you, when she’s on duty at recess.” 

Bucky laughed again. “What do you tell her?” 

She giggled. “I tell her you’re too busy for kissing.” 

He pulled up to the front and dropped a kiss onto the top of her head. “Martina will be picking you up this afternoon,” he said as she opened the door. “I have an errand to run that’ll take me to Naples; I’ll be back by dinner.” 

“Okay, Bucky,” she said, slipping out of the car. “Love you.” 

“I love you, too,” he said, watching her walk into the school before pulling away. 

Bucky knows that he, in some form or another, has loved Steve Rogers since before he even knew what love was. When he was Bucky Barnes, when he was the Winter Soldier – always, he has loved Steve Rogers.

Could Steve Rogers love the man he is now, the way he once loved Bucky Barnes? He hopes so even as he doubts it could be possible. 

Bucky Barnes did what was necessary to keep his family safe, whether that was his parents, sisters, and Steve and his mom in Brooklyn, or the Commands on the battlefields of Europe. The Winter Soldier protected his teams and his handlers with a ferocity that terrified those who saw it. 

William Taylor, in that regard, is no different. Lucia’s younger son, Leon, made numerous enemies amongst the organized crime enterprises stretched across Miami. Lucia nearly suffered because of it, and her grandchildren were in danger for a little while, too. William Taylor arranged a lesson for those in charge and they have heeded it well in the year since. 

Yasmin is happy in Miami. Therefore, Miami will be home unless that changes. Therefore, then, Miami is Bucky’s territory; Yasmin, Lucia, Martina, Rodrigo, Yelena, Simon, and all of their friends are his to protect. 

It is no different than what Bucky Barnes did in Brooklyn, he thought, as he drove to Naples, except in one single way: William Taylor is eminently more capable than Bucky Barnes ever was. 

.

As he clocks out, Bucky unlocks his phone to look Steve’s text: _I’d love to meet them, Bucky_. 

A long time ago, he and Steve lived in each other’s pockets. They knew almost everything about each other, spent days without being apart for more than few minutes. For nearly twenty years, they were two halves of a whole.

Then Bucky Barnes died and the Winter Soldier was forged in his ashes. 

He _misses_ Steve. Misses those days in Brooklyn when they were boys and the only thing to worry about was if there’d be enough food for dinner. (More often than not there was, and neither Bucky’s parents, Steve’s ma, or Steve questioned how.)

Since he found her, Yasmin has not gone hungry. She has not been cold for longer than it took to shrug on a jacket. She has not wondered about where she would be sleeping, or about anyone hurting her. She is happy.

He wants Steve to meet her, to see this amazing little person that loves him for some reason. He wants Steve to eat with Lucia and the kids, to watch Martina blush at Steve’s manners, for Rodrigo and Steve to argue about motorcycles, for Yelena to ask about how art techniques have changed, for Simon to fumble his way through a couple of those history questions Bucky refuses (as gently as he knows how) to help the boy answer.

He wants Lucia to look from Bucky to Steve and to _understand_ and smile. 

So he replies, _I’d like that._ and heads to Megan’s house, where he and Yasmin will be eating before heading home.

.

For the next week, all of their texts are pointless little things – what Bucky has for lunch, what Steve saw while he drove somewhere, a resolution or two for the New Year. (Steve wants to let go of his anger. Bucky wants get better at reading history texts.) ( _Want_. It is still a novelty he revels in.)

And then, while Bucky is getting Yasmin ready for an adventure day with Angelo, he receives a text from Martina, who is alone at the shop until Lucia heads in after lunch: _Someone named Steves here for you. Says hell leave if you want him to_.

For just a moment, the world stops – he cannot hear, see, smell, taste, feel anything. Everything is quiet. Everything is still. 

“Bucky?” Yasmin asks, touching his not-hand. “Bucky, are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he says, sending a quick reply before smiling down at Yasmin. “They should be here any minute for you. Are you ready?” 

She nods earnestly, Bucky Bear tucked up under one arm. 

The doorbell rings and Yasmin sprints for it, shouting, “Who’s there?” 

“Let’s go!” Angelo shouts through it, so Yasmin glances at Bucky, who tilts his head, listening for heartbeats. When he only hears two extra, he nods. Yasmin unlocks and opens the door to reveal Angelo and his Aunt Evangeline.

“Have fun,” Bucky tells Yasmin, scooping her up in a hug. He thanks Evangeline, smiles at Angelo, and watches them until the elevator doors close.

Then he swiftly grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into boots, pulls one of the rainbow gloves over the not-hand, and rushes to Lucia’s shop. 

.

Bucky enters through the back, stealthy as a ghost. He has almost five seconds of looking at Steve’s back as Steve examines the artwork on the walls before Steve turns to look at him. 

Martina’s at the counter, phone in her hand, eyes going from Bucky to Steve and back, and Bucky does not want anyone else present, even if she is as good as family. “Let’s go for a walk,” he says and Steve nods, trying so hard to control his smile. 

Bucky _missed_ that smile. 

Steve watches him come forward and then falls in behind him, so close Bucky can feel his warmth. He waits until the door swings closed behind them to say, “I hope – I just, I couldn’t, you don’t mind, do you?” in one breath. 

Bucky turns to face him. Steve closes his mouth. Bucky starts with Steve’s forehead and lets his gaze run all the way down, looking for any sign of injury. Steve’s wearing a blue shirt and dark jeans with a baseball cap on his head and tennis shoes. He looks so much better than he did half a year ago. 

All of Bucky’s hard-won control shatters and he says, “Steve, you’re _here_ ,” as tears start to spill down his face.

Steve doesn’t hesitate; he leans forward to wrap his arms around Bucky and pulls him in close, and they stand there holding each other until neither of them is crying anymore. Steve’s mumbling in his ear, “I’ve got you, it’s alright, I’m here, Bucky, I’ve got you,” even when his voice if full of his own tears, and when Bucky finally manages to get under control again, he slowly pulls back. 

He does not apologize. He just wipes at his eyes with the not-hand, smiling at little at Steve’s raised eyebrow when he sees the glove, and says, “I have an apartment. Let’s walk.” 

.

They are silent as they walk. Bucky steals glances at Steve out the corner of his eye and knows that Steve is doing the same. He wonders what Steve sees – he’s wearing one of the [shirts](http://www.beanteacher.com/shop/catalog/product_16322_Rockmount_Long_Sleeved_Hawaiian_Print_Ranch_Ocean_Western_Shirt_cat_271.html) Yasmin picked out and hasn’t washed the jeans in about a week, he hasn’t shaved yet this week, and his hair is getting long again. 

When they reach the apartment building, Bucky holds open the door. Steve ducks his head as he steps in. Miss Rosemary is just stepping off the elevator, so Bucky waits by the door. “Thank you, Billy,” she says as she hurries past. “Carl’s waiting; I’m late again!” 

“Have fun!” he calls after her. Steve’s smiling when he looks back. 

“I’m so glad you’re happy,” Steve says. “It’s all I wanted.” 

Bucky nods. “I am,” he says. He reaches up to brush the hair out of his eyes. “Third floor. Wanna take the stairs or the elevator?” 

“Stairs,” Steve says. 

At the bottom of the flight, Bucky glances from Steve to the stairs. There is a game he and Yasmin play: who can get to the apartment the fastest? Winner chooses dinner. He always lets Yasmin win. 

So he says, “Race you,” and lunges up the stairs. 

Steve lets out an aborted, “Wha-?” before following. 

.

Bucky wins. Of course he does: Steve does not know the apartment number. But they’re both laughing as Bucky turns the key, falling against each other, and it is – Bucky Barnes was always bigger than Steve Rogers, by quite a lot, except in Europe. The tables had turned then. But the Winter Soldier was not quite as large as Captain America, though he was quite a bit bigger than Bucky Barnes. 

He shakes the introspection off to watch Steve examine the apartment. It is far larger than their apartment in Brooklyn, bigger even than Bucky’s parents’ had been. Three bedrooms, one living space, a small kitchen, a dining area, one and a half baths. William Taylor secured it with funds stolen from Hydra. Yasmin chose all of the decorations while Bucky had picked out suitable furniture.

“It’s lovely, Buck,” Steve says. His gaze stays on Yasmin’s bears, still sitting on the couch where they joined her in watching her Winnie-the-Pooh DVD this morning.

He takes a deep breath and then he says, “Steve, I have a daughter.” 

Steve looks at him. “What’s her name?” he asks, eyes going back to Captain Ameribear. 

“Yasmin,” Bucky says. “I found her a couple months after – after the Winter Soldier died. She adopted me,” he laughs, “so I adopted her right back. We’ve been together ever since.” 

Steve nods and then asks, “Where was she when –”

“The girl from the shop, Martina,” Bucky explains quickly because he can’t let Steve think he’d be so irresponsible. “And Lucia, the neighbors, everyone watched over her for those months. I had to –” He searches for the words because this is _important_. 

_The man on the bridge… who was he? … I knew him._

“Hydra didn’t want you dead,” Bucky finally says, watching Steve meander around the living space. Steve’s fingers twitch as he brushes Captain Ameribear’s helmet. “They were going to recalibrate you like they did me. I couldn’t let them.” 

Steve inhales sharply, lifting his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “That wasn’t – Stark called it a roaring rampage of revenge.” 

Bucky shakes his head. “I monitored the outposts near here, while they were still in use. I learned that you were wanted alive and knew there could only be one reason.” He shrugs. “I could no nothing else.” 

“Thank you,” Steve says softly.

Bucky shrugs again.

They spend all day talking about Steve’s efforts to learn the future, his “career” with SHIELD, the places he went and food he tried while looking for Bucky. In turn, Bucky tells him about traveling with Yasmin, the movies they saw, how well she does in school, Lucia and the kids. For lunch, they have sandwiches. 

Bucky does not like looking away from Steve because he fears that he’ll look back and Steve will be gone. Steve seems to be feeling the same. 

.

“If your cover identity is William Taylor,” Steve asks as Bucky straightens up the living space, “then why do you go by Bucky?” 

“Yasmin named me the morning after we met,” he says, setting Captain Ameribear and his friends on Yasmin’s bed while Steve lurks in the hallway, hesitant to invade Yasmin’s space. “She named me for her treasured Bucky Bear.” He smiles at the choked-off laugh. “If anyone asks, I tell them that when she was younger, Yasmin had trouble with the ls in Billy.” 

“That’s adorable,” Steve says, wearing the broad grin he used to wear when he gave Bucky a hard time.

Yasmin should be home in about an hour. Bucky stops to look at Steve and he asks, “Are you staying? I’m – I can’t do it anymore.” 

Steve’s mouth drops open and Bucky can see him grasp for words but none come. Bucky waits. Finally, Steve says, “I was drowning, Buck. Doing missions for SHIELD, wandering around Washington. I visited that Smithsonian exhibit every week after they put it up. I saw Peggy every week, too, and she only remembered me about half the time. I was drowning and I didn’t care.” He rubs at his chin, looking away. “I woke up and I shouldn’t have. That’s what I thought. You were dead, the world had moved on, and they just…” Steve lowers his head, covering his face; Bucky steps closer, reaching out to wrap an arm around his shoulders. “You were dead, Bucky. I shouldn’t have woken up,” Steve sobs, tucking his face into Bucky’s neck.

“I’m here, Steve,” he murmurs, eyes closed. “We’re both here now.” 

.

When Evangeline drops Yasmin off, Yasmin is visibly drooping. Angelo is mostly asleep, leaning against Evangeline’s leg. “We had dinner already,” Evangeline tells Bucky. 

“Thank you,” he says, guiding Yasmin through the door. 

“Night, Yasmin,” Angelo calls and she replies, “Night, ‘elo.” 

Bucky scoops her up into his arms after closing the door. “We have a guest,” he says. “Do you remember the friend I went to help?” 

She nods, visibly perking up. 

“He has come to visit me and would like to meet you. He’s in the kitchen.” She tries jumping out of his arms, but Bucky catches her, tightening his grip. “I suppose that’s a yes,” Bucky muses. 

Steve steps into the small hallway between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment. “Hi,” he says, waving. 

“Hi!” Yasmin waves back. 

“Yasmin, this is Steve,” Bucky says. “Steve, this is Yasmin.” 

“Do I know you?” Yasmin asks, tilting her head. “You look awfully familiar.” 

Steve smiles. “I’d remember meeting someone as brilliant as you,” he says. “Bucky’s told me how well you do in school.” 

She nods, leaning back against Bucky as she yawns. “Bedtime,” Bucky says. “Are you awake enough to brush your teeth?” 

“Yes,” she says, the word nearly swallowed by a yawn. 

Bucky laughs. “I’ll go get her settled, Steve.” 

There is something soft in Steve’s expression. “I’ll be waiting.” 

.

When Bucky comes back into the kitchen, Steve is finishing up the prep for hot dogs. “Thanks,” he says, grabbing two and reaching past Steve to ladle some chili out. 

“I’ll leave after dinner,” Steve says. 

Bucky wants to ask him to stay but he needs to talk to Yasmin first, so instead he just nods. “I’m going to tell Yasmin tomorrow,” he says. “If you’re not going back to New York.” 

Steve does not say anything while Bucky eats the first hot dog. Steve just pushes his own around on the plate, eyes distant. As Bucky picks up the second hot dog, Steve says, “I’m tired, Bucky. I’m so tired. I just… I’ve done enough, haven’t I?”

Bucky nods. “You have, Steve, I promise.” He bites at his lip, trying to think of the right words, something that might offer Steve some comfort, but all the words dry up. 

“I’m done,” Steve says, meeting Bucky’s eyes. He’s wearing the face that always meant he’d chosen and wouldn’t turn back, no matter what. Bucky used to hate that look as much as he loved it. “Captain America… either they give the suit to somebody else or he’s done, too.” 

“Steve,” Bucky tries, “if you – don’t be doin’ it for me, alright?” 

Steve smiles, like if he smiles wide enough Bucky won’t see the tears in his eyes. That didn’t work in Brooklyn, either. “I’m doin’ this for me, Bucky,” he says. “Honest.” 

“Okay,” Bucky murmurs. What else is there to say?

.

Bucky lingers at the door, wanting to touch Steve’s hand, his hips, his lips, but also wanting to turn away because he was never good enough for Steve, and that’s about four times as true now. He wants to take Steve to bed just to hold him and be held; he wants to wrap himself around Steve, the way they did in Brooklyn and never could quite manage in the middle of war, even though the guys always turned a blind eye when they weren’t teasing. He _wants_ \-- 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Buck,” Steve says gently and he reaches out to caress Bucky’s hand before walking down the hall. 

Bucky watches him go, gently closes the door, and goes to shower with water so hot it feels like his skin is melting off. 

That night, the only dream he remembers is of running through Brooklyn, always chasing a little blond boy, never quite catching up but laughing all the same. 

.

In the morning, while Yasmin watches an episode of Winnie-the-Pooh, Bucky digs through her Captain America comics. After he finds the first one, he goes out to sit beside her, waiting for the episode to end. Captain Ameribear and Bucky Bear both have three cheerios in front of them; Bucky stealthily collects them all and swallows them in one bite. 

“Yasmin,” he says as the credits roll, “there’s something I need to tell you.” 

She leans forward to set her bowl on the coffee table and turns to face him, crossing her legs on the cushion. He holds out the comic. 

“You remember how you said Steve looked familiar?” he asks. “There is a very good reason for that.” She takes the comic, frowning down at it. “His name is Steve Rogers,” Bucky says. 

Yasmin gapes at the comic, then up at him. 

“And I,” he continues, “Yasmin, I – I was born James Barnes and then very bad people captured me and did – did very bad things. But I eventually got away from them. And I found you. And…” He shrugs, unable to look at her. The not-hand is clenched in his lap, hidden in a blindingly pink glove. “And here we are,” he finishes in a whisper. “I just… Steve wants to be around and you should know.”

“Bucky,” she says, voice shaking. “I named you Bucky for Bucky Bear. But… Bucky Bear is named for you.” Her giggles start small but she eventually doubles over, crinkling the comic and laughing so hard she cries. She throws herself at him and he catches her, starting to laugh, too. 

.

She has questions, of course. He answers what he can, redacting a great deal, but she is at last satisfied. He also explains that even if Steve lives openly as the one-time Captain America, Bucky still must remain known only as William Taylor. She pouts when he says that not even Angelo and Megan can know but he trusts that she’ll keep her word. It is a right thing, after all. 

The knock comes mid-morning. “It’s Steve,” he tells Yasmin. She lights up and runs toward the door to let him in.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 8 points of view on Steve Rogers leaving New York.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.   
> Warnings: talk of Steve’s depression; minor language  
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 1980  
> Point of view: third

A week into the New Year, Steve is on his way back on way back to New York just to grab anything he can’t live without (which, truth be told, isn’t much). “But you’re coming back, right?” Yasmin had asked, dark eyes wide, mouth trembling. 

Bucky’s daughter. Bucky has a little girl and she’s amazing, and Bucky’s so good with her, just like Steve always knew he’d be with his kids. 

“Yes,” he promised, gaze going from her to Bucky, who was busy whipping up some eggs. It’s the first day of school and Yasmin was all ready, and Steve got to go with them to drop her off, and he still can’t stop smiling. “I’ll be back tomorrow or the day after, depending on how the team reacts, but I’m coming back. Nothing could keep me away.” 

“You swear?” she demanded. “You can’t break swears or promises.” 

He nodded firmly. “I swear,” he said. “You and Bucky, the two’a you are all I need. But I have to let them know or they’ll raise a fuss.” 

Yasmin sighed. “Okay,” she said. “But if you don’t come back, me and Bucky are gonna go lookin’ for you.” 

And then they ate breakfast, and then they rode in Bucky’s Buick to Yasmin’s school, where she kissed them both on the cheek before she slid out, and they watched until she was in the school, and then Bucky drove to the airport, where he and Steve got coffee and sat doing nothing but talking for two hours and then Steve couldn’t take any longer or he’d miss his flight. 

“I’m coming back,” he told Bucky, grabbing his hand. He wanted to kiss him so bad but Bucky still shied away from touch sometimes, and rushed in an airport is not the way their first kiss since 1944 should go.

“If you don’t,” Bucky said, just the tiniest hint of threat in his tone, “I will come find you.” 

Steve grinned, squeezed his arm, and then hurried to the check in. 

And now he’s sitting in coach, trapped between a bored teenager and a snoring old man (yet still younger than Steve), and he can’t stop smiling. Hasn’t stopped smiling since his second day in Miami, when Yasmin and Bucky took him on a tour of their neighborhood and Steve, for an entire day, forgot about Captain American and the Avengers and anything beyond Bucky’s eyes and Yasmin’s voice. He met their neighbors in the apartment building, had dinner with Lucia’s family, pushed Yasmin on the swings at the park – he was just _Steve_. Billy Taylor’s friend. That was all anyone needed to hear and they welcomed him. 

He’s so tired. He’s been fighting since before he can remember because there are right things and there are wrong things, and somebody’s gotta stand up. He’s always stood up. 

And he still will, of course he will, if something like the Chitauri or Project Insight or Ultron ever happen again – but otherwise, he’s done. He’ll live in Miami and he’ll find a job just so he doesn’t get bored and he’ll be with Bucky, and he might start feeling alive again.

Steve’s done enough research to know that shellshock is depression is no one’s fault. It’s an illness, like any other he had before the serum. And there’s no quick fix for it. But he knows that hanging up the shield and leaving the never-ending fight is a good start. 

He just hopes the team doesn’t give him a hard time. 

…

“Sir, you wished to be informed when Captain Rogers returned,” Jarvis announces in the middle of Tony, Bruce, and Jane’s latest experiment. 

“He’s back?” Tony asked. “Good.” 

It’s not the Tony was worried (because he wasn’t) or that he didn’t know where Steve was (because he did) – but, still. Leaving without letting anyone know? Dick move. And Tony knows from dick moves, okay? But he’s grown as a person, so he mostly doesn’t do them anymore. 

Bruce sighs. “I suppose we’re all going to go yell at him?” 

Tony nods firmly. “Damn right we are.” 

Jane rolls her eyes. “Jarvis, make sure Darcy knows, okay? Steve owes her a sketch.” 

“Of course, Dr. Foster.” 

They stabilize the experiment, make sure to jot down where they are in the process for it when inevitably fails while they’re gone, and then head up to Steve’s floor together. 

“Where do you think he was?” Jane asks.

Bruce shrugs. “I understand having to leave for a little while,” he says, “but my problem is that he didn’t warn us. That’s the only caveat, you know?”

Jane nods. “That makes total sense,” she agrees, turning her head to look at Tony. “You’re being awfully quiet over there.” 

He smirks. “I _know_ where our errant Capcicle went. The Artful Assassins probably do, too – but you really didn’t try to figure it out?” 

Jane and Bruce share a look that Tony doesn’t bother to read.

The elevator opens before either of them says anything else. 

…

Natasha is waiting inside Steve’s den; she’s known since he stepped off the airplane and is trying to determine which approach to take with him. She finally settles on concerned sister/friend and has her expression ready when he opens the door. 

“Hi, Nat,” he says brightly. “How’s your New Year so far?” 

“It’s going great, Steve,” she replies just as brightly. “What about yours? Have you gone gallivanting off without a word to the Sunshine State?” He gives her a glance as he walks past her towards the bedroom. “No, really, tell me all about it,” she says, giving him her most earnest look. 

“Florida was lovely,” he tosses over his shoulder. “You should go sometime if you haven’t yet.” 

She huffs in annoyance. He really is too good at this game. “Steve,” she says standing up and going to the doorway, watching him dump the entire contents of his closet into a few separate bags. “Steve, what are you doing?” 

He stops and leans his head back, sighing. “I’m retiring, Natasha,” he says, turning towards his dresser. 

“Because of Barnes?” she asks. 

“No.” He looks at the shield, propped up in the corner where he’d left it, and Natasha has no idea how to read the emotions that cross his face – regret, grief, joy, and then hope, maybe? “I’m doing this,” he says, looking away from the shield and grabbing everything from the top drawer, “because I’m tired of drowning.” He actually smiles a _real_ smile, the kind she didn’t see at all before Project Insight, and says, “This is me gettin’ out of the water.” 

…

“Did you really think you breeze in here, pack up your shit, and breeze back out?” Darcy demands. “Dude! You gotta give us something.” 

Look, if Steve wants to head out and stop living on-call for all the wanna-be overlords, that’s entirely his business and she wishes him all the luck in the world. But to just sneak out and not tell anyone? 

“You’re right,” he says, pulling a sketchbook out of his backpack. He flips it open and goes through the pages until he finds the right one and tears it out. “Here,” he says, holding it out towards Darcy. “A sketch of Bucky, like I promised.” 

She takes it carefully and looks down: Bucky Barnes in full Howling Commando gear, smirking at something not shown. “Thank you,” she says reverently.

“Okay, that’s sugar-coma inducing,” Stark breaks in. “But don’t you think you should tell everyone where you were, El Capitan?” 

Darcy watches the way Steve’s eyes linger on the sketch in her hands and figures she knows. 

…

They all settle in the communal entertainment room and Steve stands at attention in front of them all. Clint wonders why any of them are surprised; he’s sure not. This has been coming from the moment Steve realized Bucky Barnes wasn’t exactly dead. 

“Bucky has a life in Miami,” Steve starts. “He’s happy. And there’s room for me.” He doesn’t look at any of them, choosing some spot on the wall to talk at. “So I’m going.” 

“As Steve Rogers?” Tasha asks before anyone else can say anything. “Or are you going to assume a cover identity like William Taylor?” 

Steve shrugs. “I’ll do whatever Bucky wants.” 

Tasha scoffs. “That’s sloppy, Rogers.” 

“Is Bucky’s cover sloppy?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow and actually glancing at Tasha. 

“… no,” she grudgingly admits. “It’s quite impressive, actually.” 

Nodding, Steve says, “Well, there you are.” He sighs. “I need to thank each of you for your… your support while I looked for Bucky. For your friendship. But I can’t…” He shakes his head. “I can’t be Captain America anymore.” 

“And you really think we’re gonna let you go without meeting your roommates?” Stark demands. “Without making sure the neighbors aren’t plants?” 

“Tony,” Steve sighs, “you expect me to believe you haven’t done that already?” 

Stark looks uncomfortable for a moment; Clint glances at Natasha, who nods.

“Well, we have to at least meet them!” Stark argues. 

Clint looks around the room; most everyone is wearing a face like they want to say something but can’t think of what, so Clint rolls his eyes and decides what the hell, why not. “We’ll give you a month to get settled, Ca-- _Steve_. And then we’ll pop in every now again in twos and threes. How’s that sound?” 

Stark glares at him but Steve nods, looking relieved. 

“I’ll create a schedule,” Pepper adds. “Before any final decisions are made, I’ll send it to you and – ”

“Billy Taylor,” Steve says. His smile is so fucking sad when he says, “Bucky Barnes is dead, remember?” And then, “Jarvis, I need to update what you call Bucky.” 

“He shall be Mr. Taylor from now on, Mr. Rogers,” Jarvis says. 

Stark barks out a laugh. “Oh, that’s fuckin’ precious.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, so Clint assumes he gets the reference. 

…

Steve spends the night at the tower and in the morning they all have breakfast together; everyone cycles around to Steve to say goodbye, even if they don’t use that word. Sam is the last and the only one to go with him to the airport. (Was anyone surprised when Steve turned down Stark’s private jet? Nope.) 

“Thank you so much, Sam,” Steve says as they wait in the check-in line. “I honestly have no idea what would’ve happened if I didn’t meet you that morning.” 

Sam thinks about Riley and then he pats Steve’s shoulder. “No problem, man. It’s been a crazy-ass ride. Place’s gonna be so quiet without you.” 

Steve chuckles, pulling him into a back-breaking hug. “Seriously,” he says softly. “Thank you, Sam.” 

Sam nods. “I’m gonna come see you, give your boy a speech or two.” Steve grins at him and then it’s his turn at the desk. Sam goes with him as far as he can, wondering – 

Steve has been so different since they got back from Europe. Lighter. Happier, Sam thinks. On their world tour of blowing shit up, Steve was a cold, focused laser, and, in all honesty, just a bit terrifying. At the time, Sam had thought he just didn’t get angry and lash out; he knows better, now. Steve was enraged that whole time and he was merciless with it. 

But Steve now… he waves at Sam and heads further into the airport. Sam watches him go and can’t decide if he’s happy or not. 

…

Nick answers the phone with a barked, “What, Rogers, this is not a good time.”

“I’m retiring, sir,” Rogers says. “Of course I’ll step up if something world-ending is happening, and Bucky probably will, too. Otherwise, though, don’t call me. I won’t come.” And the fucker hangs up. 

Nick glares down at his phone and doesn’t bother calling Rogers back. He calls Romanoff instead, and her explanation for letting him get blindsided had _better_ be good.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we have come now to the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair  
> Disclaimer: not my characters. Title from Langston Hughes.   
> Warnings: implications of past child abuse; all the fluff in nine realms   
> Pairings: Steve/Bucky  
> Rating: PG  
> Wordcount: 345  
> Point of view: third  
> Note: would anyone be interested in me posting the timeline I created for this fic?

Yasmin doesn’t remember her mother beyond fragments of a song and a bright, warm laugh. She doesn’t remember her uncle beyond a sense of overwhelming fear. 

She knows her parents weren’t Daniel and Lisa Taylor, but not their actual names.

She remembers Bucky, though. She remembers that he held her until the fit passed, and that he helped her find food and shelter and clothing, that they went on adventures and saw movies and read books. She remembers that he said he didn’t have a name and so she gave him one, the same name as her greatest treasure of all. 

William Taylor is Yasmin’s uncle but she never calls him that. She knows that she could call him Dad, and she thinks he must be just like a dad – but Megan and Angelo don’t have dads, so she’s not sure. 

He’s Bucky. He’s Bucky just like Bucky Bear, and like the Bucky in the Captain America comics, and just like in the history books. Bucky Barnes was a hero, and even though Yasmin can’t tell anyone – 

“Are you ready?” Steve asks, knocking on the doorframe and peering around it. 

Today is Yasmin’s eighth birthday and everyone’s going to the beach, Angelo and his aunt, Megan and her moms and sister, Lucia and Martina and Rodrigo and Yelena and Simon, and Bucky and Steve.

“Let’s go!” she shouts, throwing herself off the bed and trusting Steve to catch her. 

He’s not Captain America anymore; they explained that when he got back from New York. He’s retired to Florida just like the snowbirds Mr. Quintin complains about, the ones who muck up the traffic. 

“Steve,” she asks, poking his chin, “when are you and Bucky gonna get married like Megan’s moms?” 

Steve chokes and she hears Bucky laughing from the living room, where he’s gathering up all their beach gear. 

“As soon as we’re both ready,” Steve tells her, and then he and Bucky share that goopy love look. 

“I’m gonna be the flower girl,” she says. 

Steve kisses her cheek. “Of course you are.”


	13. author's note

So at some point in the near future, I will probably be doing timestamps for this 'verse. I have a few ideas in mind; is there anything in particular anyone wants to see? a pov I've yet to do? 

Also, just for kicks, here is [Bucky](https://38.media.tumblr.com/1136eeb2ec025451a1d823f18b78b303/tumblr_n4i9pe8JZo1rh8k1ro2_250.gif) after Steve moves in, [Steve](http://heiress2nothrone.files.wordpress.com/2011/10/chris_whats-ur-number_evans.jpg) after he retires, and [Yasmin](http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-V-XSSNwDdlo/USzHrm1wYtI/AAAAAAAAAh8/7HtSI44IGO0/s640/quvenzhane+pic.jpg) being the happiest little girl in the world.


	14. author's note

The first timestamp is up, creatively titled "Timestamps," under the "imprinting" series tag.


End file.
